


I'll Steer Us Over Highs and Lows

by ChangeTheCircumstances



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU
Genre: Any bad thing you can imagine that goes with Roman and Victor, Copious amounts of violence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Victor will happily flay anyone alive for Roman, alternative universe, but in a sadomasochist way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeTheCircumstances/pseuds/ChangeTheCircumstances
Summary: Victor enjoyed the highs of Roman Sionis. He loved the violence and inspiration that could come out of nowhere. Glee or anger, Victor would even take annoyance and confusion. The lows though, they were just another example of how much Roman needed him. Victor's job was to protect Roman Sionis from anything and anyone after all, including even himself.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 41
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue this? Wanted a break from school and some other stories I've been writing to do something else. This was fun and I love any version of murder husbands or wives in different fandoms so figured I'd dip my toe in here. Hope you like it and again, please tell me if you want more.
> 
> Also, title is from Animal Style by Biffy Clyro which is literally the perfect song for these two.

Roman Sionis was the fucking star. Roman motherfucking _Sionis_ had everything. He was in control. The only direction he was going was up. Fucking up to the fucking stars that he completely fucking deserved.

And it was Victor Zsasz that ensured he continued on that path.

Roman knew that of course. He just didn’t know quite the extent of it. That was Victor’s job too.

He was the one who got his hands dirty for Roman. He made sure any fucker who thought they could take over his rise was stopped short. Victor protected everything of Roman. His club, his reputation, his money, his body. Sometimes even from himself. It was that last aspect of the job that Roman would never accept if he was made aware of it. He would fervently deny it. So much so that it could have honestly been the thing to cut Victor out if he ever spoke of it.

Many wondered why he followed Roman. He could have hitched his post to just about anyone. Hell, with his skillsets, he could have continued working freelance. Sure, that probably would have led to every fucking employer also putting a hit on him, but he would have been able to handle it. He didn’t need protection, some lone backer to hide behind.

Because of that, people didn’t understand. Victor didn’t need Roman. He was just a fucking psychopath who got off on killing, right? Did it really make that much of a difference that someone specifically gave him orders now?

Well, it wasn’t about the killing. It was certainly a big part. The few times when Roman told him off, to keep his blades to himself, it certainly stung. An itch that desperately wanted to become a whine, sometimes would in private, always rose at that. If he’d been good, Roman would make sure to rectify that with a different order. That always got rid of the itch. But if it was really only about the killing, then Victor wouldn’t have stood for a no. He would have killed who he wanted to and would have already moved on. But then, he wasn’t staying for himself.

He stayed because Roman needed him.

No one was ever able to figure that reason out. They would guess. They tried their fucking hardest. But they never thought it could be that Roman simply relied on him that much. Which was good. It meant Victor was doing his god damn job.

One man had gotten close. That was dangerous enough, but even worse, he’d used the wrong words to describe it. Disrespectful words. Disgusting words that implied Roman was anything but the star that he was. To be fair, Victor had still been a new addition to Roman’s collection. No one could have known how loyal he’d already chosen to be. Thankfully, the man’s transgressions and the sudden, broken beer bottle that had cut straight through his jugular had served as a warning for the next person. The fact that everyone assumed Roman had given the order was even better. It made others think that he was strong enough to contain the animal that was Victor Zsasz. Nothing could replace how beneficial that aspect to Roman’s reputation was.

It increased Roman’s need of him too. Every time Victor did good. Every time Roman was pleased with an order effectively carried out, he knew that he needed to hold onto Victor that much harder.

That need didn’t replace Victor’s love of killing, but it did sit just about on par with it. Victor had never been needed. Sure, for a job maybe, a quick hit. But he’d never been needed as a person, needed by someone’s whole being, and it was intoxicating.

Victor was self-aware of course. He knew how obsessive, how abnormal it was. But it wasn’t like he’d be any more normal if he hadn’t hitched himself to Roman. He’d have just as many tallies on his body by this point. More, actually, but that was a pain Victor was willing to go through. For Roman. All for Roman.

If someone disrespected Roman, Victor fixed it.

If it looked like someone was going to turn rat, Victor fixed that.

If Roman specifically had a problem, Victor made sure he was always there with a solution too.

And if Roman was losing it…

Victor liked when Roman became unhinged, acted out. Roman’s need of him hadn’t always been what it was now, a glowing, all-encompassing light of red that Victor was happy to bask in. The first thing that had drawn Victor to Roman was his temper, his imagination, and especially when the two mixed.

One day in an unmarked warehouse, Victor had just finished Roman’s request as he had said, “You know boss, you could always do a little art yourself.”

“If I did that, why the fuck would I continue to pay you? If I say cut a man’s nose off and feed it to him, I fucking expect you to do it. Do you want me to clean up these fucking messes now too? Fuck off Zsasz and get that fucking fucker out of here!” Roman had snapped.

Anyone else would have cowered. Near the beginning, when Victor had sill been testing the waters, trying to figure out what he could gain from such a relationship, he might have remained stone faced. A slight nod or soft, “Sorry, sir.” But by that point he had just grinned. He’d cut the body loose, letting it fall onto the tarp as he instead had said, “You always do such a pretty job conducting. I just thought you could be even prettier if you didn’t mediate your ideas to someone else.”

And like that, Roman’s mood had changed again. He’d started out satisfied for a job well done, had gone to a hot anger, and now was just mildly annoyed. “If you had any fucking sensibility of art, you’d know a conductor can’t be the fucking orchestra too.”

“This orchestra won’t question you again boss.”

And like that, the mild annoyance turned back to satisfaction and a little bit of glee as Roman let out a bark of laughter. “Clean up your mess Mr. Zsasz. And don’t get any on that shirt. I just bought it for you.”

“Of course, sir.”

Yes, the turbulent waters that were Roman’s emotions always brought a smile to Victor’s face. The fact that no one else knew how to ride them like Victor added a sense of pride too. No one could ever replace him. No could ever be his equal in regards to Roman Sionis.

Victor was willing to put up with it all. The quick switches, the sudden rages, the messes that were made, it all brought a smile to Victor’s face. And if it was only that, Roman wouldn’t need him quite as much. Those highs, being unhinged, at least in the way Victor defined it, was volatile. It was an outward show that terrified others. They never knew what Roman was going to do next. It put them in their place and helped maintained Roman’s place above the squalor.

But with the highs came the lows too. The first time Victor had seen it happen had been more shocking than a quick turn of anger. A laugh that turned into an explosive tantrum. Roman had been fine, his ‘normal’, everyday self. And then he’d just…he’d turned quiet. In the middle of a meeting, no warning, just sitting there with a blank face that didn’t focus on anything.

At that point, Victor hadn’t been familiar enough amongst everyone to make an order himself. Thankfully no one had realized it was a moment of weakness. Everyone else had been too scared to move from their spot, just waiting for Roman to do something. Say anything. Roman had eventually gotten up, slowly walking around the table, a sigh escaping his lips. Still no one had moved. Despite Victor knowing he hadn’t been around long enough to step out of place, he had already been around Roman more than anyone else. He’d been able to tell something was off, even if he couldn’t do anything about it.

So they had all sat there in silence. Waiting for almost an hour before Roman had suddenly barked out an order and he was back.

Victor took note of those moments the further enraptured he became with Roman. He was no fucking doctor, only knowing that some fucking fuck at Arkham probably could have written a Bible’s worth on what was ‘wrong’ with their heads. Still, Victor could pick up on the fact that the lows lasted longer than any version of the highs. His best guess for why was because the lows didn’t come as often. Because of that, Roman just wasn’t acclimated for suddenly bouncing back. Another factor that Victor had picked up on was that though the highs had a mix of emotions where Roman could bounce from one to another, the lows seemed to carry just one.

Thankfully no one else had taken note of the weakness. No one else had seen as much as Victor had, and no one ever would as long as Victor did his job right.

So Victor continued at Roman’s side. He did anything that Roman asked of him, and he did everything that Roman needed of him. Even the parts Roman wasn’t so aware of.

Now Victor stood off to the side, viewing a fairly regular meeting. It was going to be a busy day at the shipyard tonight. They had a legal shipment that needed to be picked up and watched. An illegal shipment of guns also needed to be maintained. There was also some young hotshot trying to get in on Gotham who according to their sources, was also trying to move cargo through Gotham’s port that night. They needed to destroy that cargo, maybe kill a few guys, to help send a fucking message.

Victor wouldn’t be involved in it. He wasn’t one for the full-scale assaults, the army of pawns that Roman moved left and right. He was a far more special piece. If he got involved in tonight at all, it would probably be because their goons managed to hunt down the little shit that thought he could be on par with Roman. Then he and Victor would be on the scene to make a real impression, skin the fucker alive, but otherwise Victor was at the meeting as just the ever constant back up. The reminder why not one of their men should ever turn rat and run.

Roman was giving out his orders and Victor was just basking in it, the volatile nature of it all. He almost hoped the young upstart would get caught. Or maybe he would be fucking stupid enough to be there to receive his shipment in person. Victor would love to watch the light drain from the eyes of some stupid fuck who honestly thought he could move shit under Roman’s watch.

But as Roman was yelling out the plans for the night, he pulled out his phone. He continued to talk as his thumb slid across the screen. “Now if you can’t get back here with a hundred percent of what’s fucking mine, I suggest you throw yourself into the motherfucking harbor because if I find you, I will drag you through the propellers of a god damn…ship…”

Roman’s voice fell off. He stopped his rapid pacing. Even when standing still he was usually moving. He’d be running his hands through his hair, shifting his feet and moving his body from side to side. But now he was completely still. This wasn’t before when all Victor could do was sit and wait. Now everyone believed as if fact that the moment Victor spoke, it was Roman speaking through him. He stepped forward.

If Roman was in a bad mood but on a high, he probably would have yelled the words, angry and upset. As it was, he continued to stand there, just staring at his phone. But it didn’t matter. All eyes were on Victor the moment he had changed positions. A smile that was all teeth slowly moved across Victor’s face, wide and distorted. His voice was low, leveled, but didn’t hide the violence he was capable of in the slightest. “Get the fuck out.”

The men all but scrambled, probably thinking if they didn’t, Roman would say something to the effects of, “Mr. Zsasz, make their ugly fucking mugs something to really be embarrassed about.” Victor might have just done that without an order if one of them was too slow. But no, the apartment was completely empty in the next few seconds.

The smile slowly dropped from his face and soon all attention was devoted to Roman.

“Hey.”

The softness with which he spoke wouldn’t necessarily have surprised anyone. People knew how fucking devoted Victor was to Roman, even if they couldn’t figure out why. More would have been surprised by Victor taking Roman’s hands, forcing them down so that his eyes would move away from the text on the screen. Some had seen Victor act like this with Roman, mainly their men or people about to die a slow and painful death. Anyone that did witness such acts and lived knew Victor was the only one who could lay a hand like that on Roman first, not the other way around.

No, the only aspect that no one had laid eyes on were moments like this. When Victor laid his hands on Roman and there wasn’t some type of struggle or enraged shouting involved. Moments when Roman was almost pliable. It was a term that Victor could define Roman by in times like this, but he would make sure no one ever came to the same conclusion.

There eyes met and Victor fucking hated it. He liked the fire, that spark of inspiration. He liked to watch it burn or to even tame it a little, helping Roman guide it to something more purposeful, more fun, than simply lashing out at anything around him. Even Roman annoyed, not quite angry but truly upset, was better than the tired look Roman gave Victor.

Recently, Victor had begun to notice a pattern to the lows. Their reasons were still an unknown, Roman too often always keeping everything in his head in these rare moments. However, they most often seemed to be set off by a text. What those texts included, who they were from, if it was one person or multiples, he didn’t know. There was a chance there wasn’t a connection between any of them. Victor had a sinking suspicion that there was one though. Or if it was multiple people, then it was something else that connected the people who texted Roman and made him like this.

Victor could take that phone now. He could at least start trying to figure out who the fuck or what the fuck shoved Roman down into these fucking horrific times. Hell, Roman seeing Victor snatch his phone away and snooping through texts right in front of him could pull him out of this funk. He could get so fucking upset that he’d be back to his old self.

But doing so could also mean he stepped over a line that he was never meant to cross. It could bring Roman back, but only long enough for him to finally send Victor away. That, Victor couldn’t allow. If he ever did have to leave Roman’s side, Victor would only leave Roman’s line of sight. The man needed him, would always need him. If that meant protecting Roman from the shadows instead of from his side, so be it. But Victor would like to avoid that if possible. For now, he would continue to try and stay by Roman’s side. He would continue to feel out the few lines Roman had for him and see if looking at Roman’s phone was one of them.

That would be for another time though. Instead, Victor just pressed the button to turn the screen off and placed the phone on the nearest structure.

Before he went into full crisis mode, Victor tried one last trick that could sometimes bring Roman back. It almost always helped if Roman was going too far off the rails. A quick suggestion and the rage became a bit more guided and the anger might turn to glee. Now though, Victor just wanted even a twitch of Roman’s lips, just a spark of the usual flame.

“You’ve been meaning to get back at that bitch who outbid you,” Victor said, remembering a particular woman that had really gotten under Roman’s skin. He smoothed Roman’s hair back before his palms rested on Roman’s face and neck. “We can make it a nice classic. Skin her pretty little face off. Or we could get inventive. Make her skin look like that painting you wanted so badly before I steal that for you too. Yeah?”

He waited. Sometimes those attempts got through. But Roman shook his head, actually shook his head and just let out a tired sigh. “Not right now Victor.”

Shit, Victor would hold onto that idea for later. Now he changed tactics again. “I’ll start a bath for you. Yeah? Nice and warm, not too hot then.”

Victor pulled away. He pulled out his phone as he went to start the bath. There were two bathrooms, one with a shower for when Roman was in a hurry. He used the bath more often though. Not being the utmost careful and generous in personal grooming was probably one of Roman’s seven deadly sins. The bath also worked great in times like this. It usually helped to ease Roman a bit, keep him from falling any deeper. Sometimes it was the one thing needed to start bringing him back to one of his highs. It also had more room for Victor which was preferred to the shower unless it was one of the rare moments when he got the honor of fucking Roman up against the glass.

But for now Victor multitasked, focusing on preparing the space and making sure Roman’s last orders were followed to the most minute detail.

They knew their jobs. They knew what was expected of them. Victor just needed to make sure that their sudden leaving didn’t imply they no longer had a job tonight. They most certainly did and if they didn’t return with everything that was Roman’s, then the threat he’d previously given would still stand.

Victor also prepped the club for the night as well. He knew some of the girls and staff would breath a sigh of relief, knowing Roman wouldn’t be making an appearance. So fucking ungrateful. They should be thankful Roman even let them work in his fucking club. For now though, Victor swallowed his distaste for them and simply passed along a message.

“There’s a private matter I’ve been asked to deal with. The boss wants to make sure it’s done right, so he likely won’t be there to entertain tonight.”

It was a simple lie. It made the staff’s skin crawl. Yet even the worst things their minds could imagine didn’t even come close to the worst things Victor had done. But that was alright, he was continuing his job. He hid Roman’s weak spots and kept that fear ever present as it should be.

Upon returning to Roman’s side, Victor was at least thankful that Roman hadn’t stayed rooted to the spot. Those were the worst fucking moments, when Victor had to guide Roman out of his clothes and into a bath or his sleepwear that was worth the price of a new car.

Now he just continued to slowly slip out of his clothes. He wasn’t ashamed about the nudity, but Victor could tell the cool of the apartment was irritating him. At least that was some type of reaction. It was better than numb indifference.

Victor covered Roman’s nude form with his own, offering some small offer of warmth. “It’s ok,” whispered Victor. “Follow me.”

He guided Roman to the bath. He got in without much help, another good sign.

“Do you need anything, Roman?”

He still said boss, or sir in the right contexts. But he was really the only one of Roman’s men that got away with a first name basis. Victor saved those moments for private times though. Some were more fun than right now, but this required a first name basis too.

When Roman didn’t respond, Victor moved to grab a washcloth. When he’d first been employed, he hadn’t known shit about skincare routines or that there were product names for soap other than just fucking soap. To be fair, he still didn’t really know shit about that. He sure as hell hadn’t started his own just because he followed a man who cared about that shit. But he knew Roman’s routine. He knew the patterns and the names and what was used in the mornings and what was used at night and that was what mattered.

One hand moved to clean Roman’s body while Victor’s lips crashed against Roman’s. He wasn’t as violent as he could be. Part of the fun of the violence was the push and pull, the fight back. Right now, he was trying to drag that out of Roman, but he wasn’t going full out.

One hand cleaned. The rest of Victor tried his best to ravish Roman like the god he was.

Then, as Victor ran his wet fingers through Roman’s hair, he pushed his head under the water.

Fuck, he looked goddamn gorgeous. Victor’s hand tangled in his hair. Roman’s skin like marble underneath the water. He would drown without Victor. But seeing as Victor would never fucking leave him, there was no worry about that. Roman needed Victor too much and Victor would always fucking protect him.

Before Roman could begin to choke, Victor pulled him back up. He stole Roman’s breaths before giving him more, one hand fully moving beneath the water. Roman didn’t stop him, he barely reacted, but that was a turn on in its own way. Victor wanted a reaction. He was sure to get one after Roman managed to achieve his usual high. But right now, with so little resistance and knowing that Roman was completely his, it sent a different kind of thrill through Victor’s very core as he got off on it more than Roman.

He eventually switched tactics, focusing on cleaning Roman again though sometimes he would still pause to roam across his body. Victor made sure to move carefully across Roman’s skin, putting the same dedication and attention to detail as he would on any victim. When one move finally got Roman to sigh, this time contented and a little heavy rather than tired and defeated, Victor counted it as another good sign. His smile full of teeth captured Roman’s. He managed to pull out another sigh like that, a noise almost like a moan before Victor finally finished.

Victor reached over to let the water out and then grabbed a towel. He helped Roman get dry. This time he didn’t have to guide him, but instead, he simply stuck close as Roman left the bathroom to change.

This certainly wasn’t the deepest low Victor had ever seen, but he could tell that it wasn’t finished either. The next step would be sleep then. Let the club run itself for the night. Let Roman’s men take care of business. Roman would take some much-needed rest as the world believed he and Victor were flaying some fucker alive.

By this point, Victor stripped as well. The moment Roman came to, he would have asked Victor to flay himself if he found out his wet clothes got on Roman’s sheets. Victor would have done it too, but he would have hated fucking up his count and there wasn’t much room on his body where at least one scar wasn’t there. Best to follow Roman’s rules instead, even if he wasn’t himself enough to actually give them. Victor wasn’t the most careful about cleanliness, but he made sure to be in Roman’s presence and especially in Roman’s apartment.

Victor folded the clothes. He placed them aside to change into later tonight or tomorrow, however long Roman slept. Then he went to clean up the bath along with making sure his body was dry as well. By the time it was all done, Roman was dressed and in bed.

If this was a normal day, Victor would have waited to be told to stay or leave. If he stayed, sometimes he slept on the bed or the couch. Once, Roman had made him sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed like some rabid dog just because he thought it would be fucking funny. Victor hadn’t minded though. If anything, he’d laughed along and done just that. Anything to please Roman.

Now though, Victor took the initiative and got into bed with him. If Roman acknowledged this later on, he would claim that he’d asked Victor to stay, or that the only reason Victor had been able to get into the bed was because Roman had allowed it. And Victor would nod and say thank you for being allowed to be so near to him. It was his job after all, to protect Roman from himself and to maintain that aura of control.

But that conversation would come later.

Victor just pushed his body against Roman for now. He wrapped his arms around him. His hand covered Roman’s Adam’s apple and he relished in the fact that he was the only person allowed to do this. Roman needed him that fucking much. It warmed Victor’s heart as he lay there with his hand around Roman’s throat.

Eventually, Victor would discover what drove Roman into these deep lows. Through the texts, another method, it didn’t matter. But Victor would fix it. He would stop these lows if possible. If he couldn’t though, then Victor would at least try to ease them from happening when they did. He would protect this weakness with his blades and skills. He would make sure that Roman’s need of him was never misplaced.

He kissed the back of Roman’s neck, right behind an ear where he would usually start carving when pealing off a face. If Roman had been only looks, Victor might have already peeled it off. He wouldn’t have kept it for any amount of time like Roman sometimes did with the gifts Victor brought him, but he would have remembered the tally mark that belonged to Roman Sionis until his dying days. But thankfully, Victor had gotten to know the real Roman and having him alive was far fucking better than any tally mark that he could place on his skin.

Victor kissed him again, his fingers gently stroking Roman’s jugular as he fell asleep in Victor’s grasp. Soon he would figure out what caused these lows. Then he would know absolutely everything he needed to know about Roman Sionis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the responses! I don't plan on making this extremely long but I think I have a goal now for where the story is going. It's really fun writing for these two and a massive thank you for anyone who has left a comment or kudo!

Victor watched from afar. It wasn’t unusual. If Roman didn’t have a job for him, then he usually just stuck to the sides. Didn’t want his ugly mug scaring away paying customers after all. He would go to Roman if there was news he should hear, but otherwise he just made sure everyone in the club played nice. Except himself and Roman of course.

As Victor had grown closer and closer to Roman, he’d become privy to a great deal of information. However, he knew what his fucking job was. Unless it specifically included death threats, enemies, hanging people by their toes, stopping a fight not caused by Roman, and sometimes retrieving an extremely important object that Roman wanted and only trusted him to do, then it wasn’t Victor’s job. He heard of other news related to Roman’s business, but the trading and diplomacy and competition didn’t interest Victor. The only diplomacy he needed was what could be solved with a knife.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Roman agreed with him. Sadly, such methods didn’t work in every case and Roman wanted to be the king of something. Ashes sure as shit weren’t the flashy beauts that Roman deserved. Blood, maybe, but that was for Victor to wear so Roman’s nice fucking suits and shoes didn’t get permanently ruined.

The products, the guns, the drugs, the actually legal shit. If Roman didn’t want him involved in it, then Victor didn’t pay too much attention at first. However, Victor’s line of work did occasionally crossover, like tonight.

Victor watched as one of their men approached Roman. He came from behind, but stepped into view and stood there, silent and waiting until the conversation Roman was having was finished. Only then did he carefully speak. Victor couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Only he could interrupt Roman without worry, come up from behind and press a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

Oh, that didn’t mean there was no possibility of retaliation. If it was a particularly important conversation that he’d interrupted or Roman was just in a bad mood, he might slap Victor across the face. He could punch him hard and yell at him to fuck off. But unlike any of the men under Roman’s command, that type of retaliation didn’t scare Victor. If anything, it turned him on, and he was the only fucker who could then keep talking, even with Roman telling him to fuck off. Everyone else had to dance around the man. They were scared to death that one wrong move could get them killed off.

Victor doubted Roman would ever do that to him, but to die by Roman’s hands felt far more holy an ending than Victor deserved. His only issue with that possible route would be that he wouldn’t be able to watch Roman’s back. But the chances of Roman killing him off were thankfully low. He needed him too much.

Like now. The man that had come up to Roman was just barely hiding his trembling. Roman hadn’t lashed out right away though. His eyes moved rapidly, thinking up some beautiful plan, Victor was sure of it. Then he was positive of it when Roman’s eyes flashed upwards and met his. It was easy to move through the crowd. No one even wanted to touch him as he came near, people flinching away and walking off before Victor got too close.

He came up close to Roman’s side. Those at his table had grown incredibly quiet but were too afraid to move. It didn’t matter though. It was like they were the only two people in the club as Victor leaned down, face close to Roman’s and a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah boss?”

“It seems there’s competition on the other side of Gotham.”

Victor perked up at that. Who was he going to kill? Did Roman want to make a statement? A bullet in the back of some fuck’s head? He preferred his knives, but Victor would happily do a clean kill for him too. Dispose of the body? Dump it on some front step as a congratulatory gift to the newly made widow who just didn’t know it until she opened it? What?

He was practically salivating at the possibilities. However, the job wasn’t quite any of that, but then, that was why Roman made the final decisions. Victor could suggest things and sometimes Roman followed, but whereas Victor just liked a reason to add a new mark to his skin, Roman did have the bigger plans. No, there would be no one dying that night.

Roman noted Victor’s disappointment though. When Victor started to lean away, Roman gestured for him to come close once more. He spoke at a level that was clearly only meant for them, but if the other people at the table wet themselves a little over what they heard, then that was their fucking problem. Wasn’t it?

“Don’t worry Mr. Zsasz. This job will ultimately fall into your usual line of work.”

“Thank you, sir,” murmured Victor, still showing just a little too much teeth as he smiled. He turned to leave and could hear Roman easily jumping back into the conversation at hand, even giddier and more full of life than he’d been before. Clearly the possibilities that could come out of the job were already getting Roman’s mind running.

Victor promised not to disappoint.

The job that Victor had been tasked with was to scout out patrons of a new club that had opened up. Though Victor probably could have straight up killed the owner, Roman clearly had other ideas. If Victor killed the owner, then the next fucker who tried to outshine Roman would just show up with more guns, more guards. Victor would have gotten past them, but the cycle would have continued. From Roman’s standpoint, he probably saw that as a waist of Victor’s talents, having to dispatch him again and again to kill the next fucking fuck. No, Roman wanted a more permanent way of crushing the opposition and that meant crushing business first.

Not only would it help get into any fucker’s head that they couldn’t just sit down and set up shop so easily, legal or otherwise, but it would also tell patrons that they better know where their fucking loyalties lay.

Victor occasionally tracked people to figure out the best time to take them and flay them alive. It was less often that he recorded his tracking and showed them to Roman, but it wasn’t unheard of. Victor would just have to wait and see who struck Roman’s fancy. Roman hadn’t asked for any great detail to be found on the patrons, just images. Once he knew who he wanted to pick out of the pack, then Victor would specifically track that bitch down and would finally have some fun.

Since becoming Roman’s, people recognized him fairly often. Usually it was the scars. Occasionally, some fancy, rich fuck would notice the clothes first, connect that to Roman’s tastes, and then finally take note of the scars. Others noted the bleached hair, the teeth, but almost everyone recognized him by the scars. Because of that, Victor ended up hiding around the new club, not going inside. He went for several nights, figured out who were becoming regulars, who he remembered seeing in their own club. He wasn’t sure what Roman would want. Straight up revenge might be fun, but they also didn’t want to scare everyone so fucking much that Roman lost business. It might be better to go after someone else, but it would ultimately be Roman’s decision.

Once several days had passed and Victor felt he had enough, he went to Roman.

At the apartment, Victor pulled up the photos on his phone and slid them in front of Roman on his desk. Roman waved at the man he’d been talking to. The guy respectfully bowed his head and walked away as Victor came even closer. He glanced up, waiting until the man disappeared from view. Then for the sound of him physically leaving the apartment…yes, he was gone.

Victor slid fully behind, hands gliding over Roman’s shoulders before slowly pushing his fingers into the deep muscles of Roman’s back. To be allowed to be so close, to just be able to touch, it honestly made Victor want to sigh more deeply than Roman. It was good that he was already working Roman’s muscles. He could feel every time he recognized one of their regulars by how he tensed. Sometimes he would say something. He even grabbed a glass on his desk and threw it as hard as he could against the wall at one particular image.

“God damn that fucking bitch!”

Victor had removed his hands at that, his eyes carefully following where the glass shards had fallen. Then he slowly put his hands back on Roman’s shoulders and continued the deliberate, deep motions that Roman sighed in to.

But then he tensed again. Victor half expected to look down and see another regular that had betrayed the business. However, he didn’t recognize the face. Despite that, Roman was pulling away from Victor’s hands. His finger shook with rage as he pointed down at the picture.

“Him. That’s who I fucking want,” growled Roman.

“Him?”

“You got a fucking problem with that?”

“No,” defended Victor. He paused. Really looking at the picture. “Ok, yes. He’s really fucking fat.”

Roman laughed hard. “Ah, don’t think you can wrestle him into the back of a truck?”

“I can do it,” whined Victor. “It’s just not the kind of struggle I usually enjoy with death.”

“You’ll do fine Mr. Zsasz.” Roman picked up the phone and tossed it back to Victor. “Get everything set up within five days. I want to watch the pig squeal.”

Victor pocketed his phone before leaning down by Roman’s ear. “Oh, you’ll watch him squeal alright. Promise.” Victor’s tongue just barely poked out from between his teeth. Just a soft, wet touch against Roman’s ear before his teeth followed his tongue—

Roman back handed him hard in the face. He completely twisted around in his chair and dramatically pointed a finger at his own face. “Marks Victor! Absolutely no fucking marks!”

Victor laughed, leaning in and drawing a kiss from Roman’s pouting lips. When he pulled back, Roman was still pouting. Victor cocked his eyebrow—

Roman slapped him again, this time hard enough to leave marks from the gloves and to even jerk Victor’s head to the side. A moan escaped his lips. His head rolled back to look at Roman, his mouth open and wanting. He moved forward only to be hit again. It made him shiver.

“Go hunt the fucking pig Mr. Zsasz.”

Victor grinned. “Yes sir.”

“And I don’t expect you back here until he’s tied up and fucking ready for me! Do you fucking understand!?”

“Absolutely,” purred Victor. He would have tried for another touch, but Roman might have cut him. Then Victor would have had to take time out of hunting the pig to kill some random fucker to get the marks right again. Best not to waste time.

He started to walk off when one last order from Roman was yelled out. “And have someone clean up this fucking glass! Christ, it should have already been fucking cleaned. What the fuck do I pay any of these fuckers for?”

Victor couldn’t help but laugh, even as he said once more, “Yes sir.”

He did as Roman asked before leaving the area in search of the fat fuck. Then it was time for the hunt.

It was easy to find people with the right connections. And in Gotham? Information could be taken from anyone for the right price. Whether that was with bills or blood was up to them. Victor was partial to the latter, but he would do what was quickest in this moment. Roman had said five days. Victor had found people in less time, but unpredictable shit could always crop up. Best to work quickly so he could deliver the man on time-maybe even early-just as he’d been asked.

Though Victor had made sure to photograph the man because he’d appeared to be a regular at the club, there was always the issue that he could have just been in town for just business. Victor had no idea why Roman had decided this stupid fuck would die, but thankfully the man was a local of Gotham. He was a wealthy businessman, not part of the top percent but definitely above most of the filth in the city.

From what could be found, the man surprisingly didn’t have any criminal connections. At least nothing that could have tied him to Roman. Sure, some greedy fucking stealing from the company he worked for but there wasn’t an actual connection. Except…

Victor knew the barest possible amount about Roman’s past. Some may have thought that ridiculous. Didn’t he want to know who the man was that he was working for?

To that, Victor would have said he knew just enough. The man he saw nearly every day was Roman. The man he watched laugh in mania and scream was Roman. The man he watched grow low in the quiet, away from everyone else, was even Roman. Whatever he had started out as, his past, what had led him to this place now, that didn’t matter. It especially didn’t matter if Roman didn’t want him to know about it. And boy, did Roman fucking hate being reminded of his past.

Because Victor had never actively searched for the information, the most he had known was that Roman technically wasn’t a self-made man. Victor would have said he was, and he was happy to scare the living shit or even kill any fucker who argued that. But he knew Roman’s parents were rich, worked in Gotham, he’d grown up in Gotham, and that was it.

Some may have asked how he hadn’t heard of Janus Corp. How he hadn’t connected the Sionis’ to Roman Sionis. Victor’s response to that would have simply been that he wouldn’t know about the Wayne’s if their names and buildings weren’t plastered all over the fucking city. And whereas the Wayne Corporation seemed to have its dick in all of Gotham, Janus Corp was a bit more centralized and the Sionis’ older and more reclusive.

Victor was sure they met with their fellow fancy pricks up in their all glass apartments or in mansions that looked as old as time. But Victor hadn’t been taken to any parties that crossed over with them. Roman had taken him along to some pretty uncomfortable venues, but Victor could guess that those where Roman’s parents might have shown had been purposefully avoided. Therefore, Victor simply hadn’t known.

But looking into this man, figuring out where he lived and worked, ate and shit, and just when was the best time to kidnap him, Victor did learn a little more about Roman. However, he only looked far enough to effectively track down the man. Though curious, he wasn’t going to betray Roman’s trust. If Roman ever wished him to know about his past, then Victor would listen.

Or if Victor ultimately decided the knowledge could be used to help Roman, but that remained to be seen.

Did Roman know the guy personally? Or had he simply seen him at his parents’ company once or twice and targeted him only because of that? Victor supposed he would probably see what that relationship or lack of one was when Roman got to meet the man face to face.

When it came time to actually take the guy, Victor procured the help of some of their men. They didn’t ask questions, simply taking the orders as if Roman himself had directly given them to Victor. Knocking out the target was child’s play. But Jesus fucking Christ, Victor wasn’t exactly a large man and he definitely couldn’t have gotten the fat fuck into the back alone. Even with three men helping, the guy’s dead weight was fucking with all of them.

They did eventually get it done though and drove to a secluded space. Victor had the men help a little before finally sending them away, wanting to do the rest of the job by himself.

He usually liked to leave people swinging upside down. If people were sat upright in a chair, they still thought they had a chance at living. They always were a little too cocky, sitting in a chair like they were some guest rather than a victim. And in chairs, even tied up, they always seemed to be too slow on the uptake, that they were almost certainly going to die unless they suddenly shit gold in front of Roman. But no way was Victor going to be able to do that with this bastard. The fat prick would probably take down a support beam.

Instead, Victor pushed him against a poll and chained the guy’s limbs behind it. The man would just have enough room to shimmy upwards and stand, walk around in a circle with his back to the pole if he ever got the chance to do that. It was a bit more movement that Victor usually gave victims, but he was in a playful mood. Let the fat pig shimmy. He sure as shit wouldn’t be going anywhere.

After that, he contacted Roman and then went to make sure all his tools were in order and ready.

That next part was almost as sweet as fucking Roman. Every tool was immaculate, the blades sharp before a kill, shining, not a hint of rust. He made sure to clean them as he cleaned away every body so the examination before a session was more out of a ritualistic pattern than physical necessity. His tongue flicked out as he came across his favorite blade. The slight curve and the memories that came with it…

He didn’t immediately take his eyes off the blade as he heard the sound of someone entering. He recognized the clicking of heels. The pattern of sound that indicated a slight sway of the hips meant to drag anyone’s attention his way. And it did drag Victor’s attention over, a slight grin on his face.

His eyes roamed over Roman’s suit. Though not a conscious decision, Victor had picked out a pattern. Roman wore specific ones for certain situations. The one he was wearing now, though no less expensive and flashy, was not one of his all-time favorites. He usually wore it and the shoes that went with it if he didn’t mind a little blood on it. Interesting…

“Wake the fat fuck up.”

Victor sets his tools down for a second. He grabbed the chemicals and then went to hold them under the man’s nose. It took a second, but he eventually inhaled. His head jerked back, painfully hitting the metal. He instinctually tried to rub the spot, but the chains kept him from doing that.

The loud noises helped to stop the usual questions. He caught on quick. He didn’t ask where he was or what was happening. The man’s fat lips just spluttered for a second before falling on, “M-Mr. Sionis.”

“Bitch tits. What was your fucking name again?”

Alright, so definitely no relationship beyond Janus Corp. Then Roman had picked the man simply because of that. Or maybe…maybe he didn’t actually give too shits about the company either. After all, he was happily building up his criminal empire. That was where the money was, the real respect, and the fucking fear. It was where Roman’s future lay.

So not the company. The parents then? Victor had questions he wished to ask, but he patiently stayed where he was. He focused back on Roman. Victor’s body was tensed, ready to snap at whatever order Roman finally gave.

For the moment though, Roman was just talking. Most of it was shit that Victor didn’t care about. Mainly Roman was just insulting the guy. It wasn’t like he was aiming to get something from him after all. This was just for the show of it. For the fun. The man tried to answer some rhetorical questions but Roman stopped him each time. Really, the guy had just been fucking unlucky, being marked as a regular at that club and Roman recognizing him.

Roman’s gloved hands waved around as he said, “You think I’m upset because I wanted you to come to my club? No, you stupid shit! You think I want your ugly fucking ass in my fucking club? You think I’ll—”

“P-please, M-Mr. Sionis! If this i-is about the company or your parents—”

The first mistake was interrupting Roman. However, that probably would have just led to him snapping out an order to Victor. That was certainly what Victor expected. Instead, something else snapped inside Roman. Victor had seen it before. He relished in the gaze, but it was still a bit shocking.

Victor watched as Roman took two quick steps forward. He managed to figure out what Roman was about to do a few seconds quicker than the chained man. He was…oh. Oh! _Innovative_.

The man had also guessed what was about to happen. However, his attempts to get up and dodge the attack were too slow. If anything, he just opened himself up more as he tried to stand on one of his legs. It didn’t work though. No, because as he tried to stand, Roman’s heel came straight down on his fucking crotch.

Victor couldn’t help but laugh.

He stared wide-eyed, the hysterical laughter not stopping as Roman’s heel came down again and again. Even as Victor was enjoying the show though, he did note that the word to have set Roman off was ‘parents’. So that was definitely what this was about. Now what was pushing too far? What did Victor need to know to continue his protection of Roman, even from himself? He wasn’t sure yet. He’d decide later. In the moment, he just kept laughing as Roman finally stopped stomping down and the man’s cries cam out breathless and wheezing.

Roman flipped his hair back, carefully smoothing it with his hands as his breathing eased.

“Fucking brutal boss,” grinned Victor. “Even I don’t normally fuck with another man’s balls.”

And the man in question just continued his cries, the red stain spreading across his crotch.

Roman grinned back as he leaned forward. “I’m surprised I hit anything at all.”

They both broke into laughter, loud and boisterous over the man. Considering the noise was starting to lessen, Victor could guess the guy was going into shock. Victor and Roman only really stopped when the man barely got out, “W-what d-do you want from me?”

“Want? What the hell could I even want from you?” scoffed Roman.

“T-then w-why?”

Roman raised his eyebrows. He looked at the man like he was a fucking idiot, which to be fair, he was. “Why? Why the fuck not.”

The man started to cry even more as Roman just rolled his eyes. “We’re done here. Mr. Zsasz, please get rid of the pig, then start picking off a few more of those patrons.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Roman mulled it over in his head. “No, no I don’t think so. Just not too many all at once.” His hands moved expressively as he whispered, “This will be a slow, painful wake up call for that stupid fuck that thought they could be my competition.”

“Want to be there for them?”

“Only if you’re feeling like putting on a real show.” Roman wiped his shoe on the concrete, even though he hadn’t actually gotten any blood on it. “I did steal your usual thunder.”

Victor bit his lip. “I don’t mind. It was a pleasure boss.”

“R-Richard S-Sio-onis will—”

A flip was switched and Roman’s rage was back.

“Shut up! Shut up you stupid fucking fuck! Shut the fuck up!” Roman brought his foot down on the man’s crotch again. His heel connected with it and then went through and hit the concrete. The shock of the attack meant the guy couldn’t even bring himself to scream this time as more blood blossomed forth.

Victor let out a slow whistle before he said, “Pretty sure you fucking detached his cock.”

Roman went from rage to joy again, both of them laughing together before Victor went and grabbed a knife. He kept eye contact with Roman as he picked up the silver blade. He could see the approval in Roman’s eyes at which one he’d chosen. Victor licked his lips.

“But save the bodies for later. Having another patron of that…fucking club, if it can even be called that, go missing so quickly doesn’t fit the slow and painful method. Understood, Mr. Zsasz?”

“Yes, _Roman_ ,” whispered Victor.

“Good. Now hurry with this fuck.”

Victor nodded as Roman turned and actually skipped away. It made Victor laugh again as his grip tightened around the knife. The man started to twist and turn as much as he could after just having his cock and balls completely pulverized. Victor didn’t mind. This was the kind of struggle he really fucking loved.

He didn’t go as slow as he could have. After all, Roman had requested him after this. He hadn’t specifically said it, but Victor had seen it in his eyes. Still, Victor couldn’t just deprive himself of a good kill either. He followed a nice in between path. There was still fun. He got to hear some wonderful squealing. But after the pulse was completely gone, Victor called some people to help with the cleanup. He gladly cut up the body for Roman’s men, but he had them dump it into the barrels of acid marked as biohazardous material.

They would transport it to be disposed of as Victor went back to the club.

His skin itched as he went. He could have preformed the act at the warehouse, but considering the eyes Roman had shot his way, he knew what Roman wanted.

He’d always held a morbid fascination with Victor’s ritual. As a man who distained any permanent damage to his own skin, he loved to watch it occur on Victor’s. Because of that, Victor hurried. His mind continuously traced the blades that remained on his person. He could cut there. Or there! Or…oh…oh _yes_. What about there?

He was still thinking about it as he walked out of the elevator. He found Roman nursing a drink. The itch didn’t disappear, but Victor was able to override it a second longer as he took note of something new.

Roman wasn’t quite there, but he was at the top of the spiraling staircase that could be a low. Had a text been sent to Roman while Victor was gone? Had something else happened? Or did it have to do with that man’s singular mention of Roman’s parents? Victor had an idea, but not enough information to support any conclusion. He would work towards that soon. For the moment, his goal changed. He would keep Roman from falling into one of his lows if possible.

Victor came up behind him. Breathed him in and shivered at being so near. At first, it seemed he might not be able to stop the spiral, but then Victor offered Roman the chance to pick where the tally went. That brought forth the heat like a sudden tidal wave.

“You haven’t done it then?”

“No.”

Roman moved away. He sat in a chair and downed the rest of his liquor before carelessly dropping the glass on the table with a clatter. He leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Take off your shirt.”

Victor followed the order. His breathing became heavy, his skin flushed as he took a blade and began to hover it over each place. There was something about having Roman choose that made the process so much more intense. Even sexual as Victor groaned when Roman again denied him the blade.

“Not there,” whispered Roman. His eyes roamed over him again. “Take off your pants.”

Victor shifted, kicking off his shoes first before doing as Roman asked. He was beginning to shake now. He’d put it off too long, yet still he tried to follow Roman’s voice. He was almost close to begging when Roman finally took mercy.

“There.”

Victor took a knee to better aim at the spot Roman had chosen. A groan, the release of so much pent up energy escaped Victor’s lips as the blade finally broke through skin. Feeling the resistance, from how his hand pushed down and over to the muscle from within. It was orgasmic.

Victor’s eyes had fluttered closed as the blade pushed across. He’d made sure to stand in a spot where his blood wouldn’t stain some expensive carpet. Usually, if Roman did want to watch, he would then tell him to cover it so as not to get blood anywhere. But this time Roman was impatient. Which was good. Victor would have felt extremely impatient too if he’d been told off to the bathroom. Instead, as the blade finished its journey, a gloved hand was tilting his chin upwards. Victor’s eyes slipped open.

“Don’t fucking get up.”

The moan escaped Victor’s lips at the words alone. Then Roman’s hand gripped his short hair as best he could, pulling him closer. One glance showed that Victor had been successful. Whatever had been bothering Roman, had tried to drag him down, was effectively gone. Victor would try to find out more later, to finally stop the lows or at least lessen their intensity. For now though, it was time for some fun.

His new tally still bled, but it wasn’t anywhere near as hot as the act of Victor pulling Roman’s hips closer and wrapping his lips around him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you again! Also decided this would be five chapters (may add one more depending on how the next chapter shapes up but never planned for this story to be super long). Thank you again for any kudos and comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Victor had decided to let a few weeks pass before he tried to connect Roman’s lows with his parents. He was doing it to help Roman, because he needed him. However, he didn’t want to anger him too much too quickly by it. Again, retaliation didn’t bother Victor. But he didn’t want to risk being sent away from Roman’s side. Even a short amount of time would have hurt.

No, instead Victor worked on that previous order. He picked off people left and right. Within a month, the stupid, worthless competition had a death curse. It would have been incredibly fucking hilarious except right after dropping off the body of the last planned patron, the cops pulled up on the curb and arrested him, taking everything off his person before cuffing him and putting him in the back of the car.

It wasn’t the first time and sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Usually the cops made him want to laugh or roll his eyes in annoyance. When he’d been a freelancer with only himself to look out for, he’d done what he fucking wanted with them. He could spin them round and round for hours, making them think they were gaining ground only to find out they hadn’t been standing on anything in the first place. It never got old just how fucking dumb they were. Now, he had Roman though. Technically, if he got locked up, he could afford it. Roman would easily have the best, and sleaziest lawyers in the city bailing him out in seconds.

Victor didn’t want to put Roman through that though. Especially since this hadn’t been planned.

Because of that, the most Victor did was let out a long, bored sigh. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible which meant not retaliating and just going along. He knew they didn’t have shit on him anyways. Oh, he was sure a couple of the stupid fucks had put two and two together. Victor didn’t mind that. He liked people to know what work was his. However, they didn’t have any physical evidence. They didn’t have any witnesses. There was no fucking way they would be able to put this on Victor. This was just an attempt at a power move.

Again, not Victor’s first time, but it was a bit annoying. He hadn’t put the tally from his latest kill on his skin yet, and he was fucking hungry.

He tried to focus on the hunger. The tally was what was truly important, but that just meant the more time that passed, the worse it would hurt. Just think of food. That fat, greasy burger he’d been planning on getting that would have made Roman gag if he spotted it. Just imagine that in his head. How he’d planned to shove it in his mouth while walking back through the alleyways where he had planned to cut— No! Still just think of the burger, not the tally. Not the fact that he couldn’t even feel his knives on him anymore because the police had taken them—

Fuck! This would be so much fucking easier to handle if he hadn’t just done a kill.

They drove a short time.

The men roughly dragged him through the precinct, all eyes on him. At least the attention distracted him a little. He grinned at every fucking cop he passed.

They shoved him into an interrogation room.

Then nothing.

It was predictable. Like they really thought leaving him in there for ten hours or more would make him sweat. Only…fuck, he was sweating. Just not from what they were hoping for. No! No, just don’t think about it. Think about other things.

They had only uncuffed him to chain him back up to his chair. There was a hidden pin sewn into all his clothes though. If he struggled a bit, he could have gotten it out. He could have even broken out. But that would have caused far more trouble for Roman. As much as Victor fucking hated this, he would just have to wait it out and then leave when they let him. And they would have to let him. Again, they would find no evidence, and the knives he’d been carrying were within the legal laws. He wasn’t fucking stupid. If he planned to be out in public, like walking down the street to grab food after a nice murder, then he made sure all other knives were put away.

Victor looked around. There was a camera in the corner, but a quick analysis of it told Victor it was broken. Those stupid fucks. Either it just went to show the fucking state of the police department in Gotham, or they’d placed him here on purpose. They thought that ruffing him up a bit would get him to talk. So fucking stupid, but it did give him an idea. It could quicken the process along, even help his mind think about something other than needing that cut.

Well, it looked like it would be a long wait anyways. Victor cracked his neck. He rolled his shoulders and shifted in the chair to better the position. It would be a bit difficult with his hands chained behind him, but he could make it work.

He shifted again. His feet planted.

Then he smashed his face into the table as hard as he could.

He jolted back just as quick. Blood fell from his newly broken nose and filled his mouth where his teeth had cut into the inside of his mouth. He swallowed the taste of copper before shaking his head. Specks fell on the table and floor around him. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips. The taste, the sting, it would help. He focused on each one of those feelings, went over them again and again.

But Victor still could only wait.

Bashing his face into the table had helped, but after several more hours passed, he could feel the itch starting to rise up again. He just needed the cut. He didn’t even care how big it was now, where it went. He just needed it.

If his hands had been chained in front of him, Victor would have bit one of his fingernails into a point. Then he’d be fine. A quick slice and the itch would be gone.

But his hands were behind him. All he could do was continually blow the drying blood out of his nose to keep from becoming completely clogged. The inside of his mouth had stopped bleeding too and already the pain had fallen away. He needed another fucking distraction. Jesus, he was sweating so god damn much. He rubbed his face against his shoulder and tried to think of something else.

He could bash his face in again. But Roman would get upset if he really did some damage, even if it was caused by himself.

He could fling himself backwards. Maybe break his wrists. Break his arms from the chair and all his weight falling on them.

Ok. Now that would be really fucking stupid. He couldn’t cut people up with two broken arms.

But fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

His stomach was twisting and turning now, and not from the hunger. He tried to pretend it was because of that. He tried to imagine the food he’d been planning to eat. But he couldn’t trick himself. He needed that cut. The tally was fucking off! Off off off _offoffoffoffoffoff_ —

Victor was biting the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood again by the time a new set of officers, detectives by the look of them, came in. They jolted at his state. One of them quickly closed the door.

“Who the fuck brought him in?”

“It was Richardson and Frank—”

“I know for a fact he didn’t look like this going through this precinct.” He looked to the broken camera in the corner. “Fuck!” He walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

The other guy who’d answered his superior’s words now grew angry. He turned on Victor and slammed his hands on the table. “Alright, I know for a fact that my men didn’t fucking do this! No matter what you try to fucking say.”

The itch was still there, but Victor tried his best to focus on the conversation. He shrugged. “What proof do you have?”

Oh, he could tell he was probably just one wrong word away from having the cop bash his head in for him. Part of him wanted it. He felt so fucking sick now, just sitting and waiting and begging for that tally that wouldn’t come. Please, stupid fucking pig. Please, throw a fucking punch. Anything to try and appease the fucking itch!

“You’re a known fucking psychopath! A god damn hitman!”

“Never convicted. Never diagnosed,” Victor said, grinning through a mouthful of blood. “Unless you’re charging me now, you don’t have a god damn thing on me.”

“A god damn thing? You’ve been connected to the recent string of murders originating from that club on the east end. I fucking know it!”

Like shit he had been. All the guy had was conjecture, and Victor knew it. Because of that, he replied, “There’s a club over there? Never been.”

His ‘who gives a shit’ aurora was already making the guy lose it. It probably helped that the guy clearly knew Victor had framed it to look like an officer had beat him up too. But he couldn’t prove it beyond a weak ‘he said, she said’ argument. He couldn’t prove shit.

Victor didn’t drop his smile. “It must eat you up inside. You have me right here, and you still won’t be able to prove shit.” He was getting to the detective, but the guy had a little more self-control than Victor had expected. He kept pushing. “So many innocents—” He didn’t think of the kills as innocents, but he knew using that term would really fuck with the detective. “—their record right here on my body, and you still can’t prove shit. Politicians, wall street chums, murderers, drug dealers, whores, cops, husbands and wives.” Victor widened his smile just a little more. “Children.”

The man came around the table. He grabbed Victor by the throat. His chair tipped over, but Victor didn’t fall as his breathing was constricted. His lips continued to twitch upwards even as he choked. Right there- _right fucking there_!

With oxygen going low, his body beginning to uncontrollably shake, his mind going numb—

It was ecstasy.

The itch disappeared finally, for a split fucking second.

And then the hand was gone. Victor’s chair clattered forward. His chest hit the edge of the table with a pained gasp. He uncontrollably started coughing, his body slumped forward and his face resting against the cool table. The relief didn’t last as long as he had hoped. The itch grew back right away, almost tenfold, even as he continued to cough.

The other detective had come back. Victor could hear him yelling at the one that had just choked him but couldn’t focus in on the words.

All the other sensations slowly filtered back in. The pain he didn’t mind, but the sweat and the shakes and the itching was going to drive him mad if he had to wait much longer. Thankfully, it seemed like the other detective’s fucking stunt would help with that. Victor rolled his head to the left as the other detective leaned down to talk to him.

“We’re keeping your fucking knives. And you better fucking believe if we can connect them to any of the bodies found, you’ll be right back here.”

They wouldn’t connect shit. The two bodies that he’d allowed to be found per Roman’s instructions hadn’t touched the knives on Victor’s person. He let out a tired laugh, rough from all that he’d gone through. “Yes, sir.”

“Uncuff him.” Nothing happened for a second and then, “I said uncuff him! Christ. And you better fucking hope he doesn’t press charges with Sionis’ money backing him.”

Oh, Victor would kill the two fucks himself before he asked Roman to intervene with a lawyer. Probably not a good idea to go after them after this little tiff though. He’d just keep them in the back of his mind for a rainy day. For now, he focused on the sound of the cuffs finally be unlocked. He slipped his hands out. The urge to run, to find something sharp, was all encompassing. One detective dropped his phone and Victor actually had trouble picking it up. He probably looked like he was going through heroin withdrawals or some shit with how he was shaking.

The detective that had choked him was clearly thinking the same thing. “Drug usage. We get a fucking sample and then we can at least keep this psycho a little longer—”

“No! As much as I would like that too, this whole thing has been fucked all the way to Sunday! Besides, the orders came from on high. We’ve got to let him go.” He gestured forward. “Mr. Zsasz, we’ll have an officer escort you out.”

On high? Ah, so Roman had noticed his absence. Victor quickly glanced at his phone before pocketing it. A lot more time had passed than he’d thought, nearly the full, legal twenty-four hours of confinement before they would have had to charge him with something or ask for an extension. Victor also took note of the many missed calls, about a million unread text messages. Oh yes, he had been missed. Roman had probably paid off some fucker in charge then. He had his hands at least a little deep in just about every precinct in Gotham.

Victor forced a grin. “Then it’s my time to leave. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The last thing he heard was one of them yelling fuck and kicking the chair Victor had just sat in. All eyes were on him as he walked through the precinct, a cop on standby following him close behind. Oh, he could take them all out now. He had about a sixty percent chance of surviving it to. About eighty-one percent chance of dying in it but still taking every single cop down. Oh, that would have been pretty fucking fun—

But another time. He felt like he was going to faint if he didn’t fix his tallies.

As he walked by a desk, he stole a paperclip. He was busy untwisting it when he walked out from behind the main desk to see Roman’s driver. Roman must really be pissed that Victor wasn’t on call if he’d sent a driver.

Victor had planned to leave the precinct and to immediately go into an alleyway to get the job done, to finally stop the twisting of his stomach and the itch on his skin. Instead, the driver said, “Roman gave the order to drive you back.”

“Lead on then,” Victor replied.

He quickly followed. The paperclip was completely unfolded and posed above his arm by the time he got into the passenger’s seat.

“Mr. Sionis wouldn’t—o-ok.”

The driver shut up. His eyes focused on the road as Victor forced the paperclip’s point under his skin. It was pretty fucking hard, not the usual smooth movements associated with his knives. Yet the pain was all worth it. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, tears of relief as he finally forced the tallies back into order. His bloody face rested against the dashboard as his hand continued the motion, leaving a jagged, uneven wound on his arm that bled all over the floor of the car. Roman would be furious. It was probably what the driver had been trying to tell him, but Victor didn’t care.

He was exhausted, but not in a satisfied way. He was pissed off, but too tired to act on it.

Victor didn’t move until the driver finally stopped at their destination. Victor got out. When he walked into the club, Roman was there. He ordered people around, preparing for the night. All that stopped when his eyes lighted on Victor though. He snapped at the nearest person. “Get a doctor. Now!”

He met Victor halfway, roughly grabbing him by the back of his collar. Victor just barely resisted the urge to lean in, knowing Roman wouldn’t have forgiven him for getting blood on his suit. He’d be angry enough about the car. However, the moment they were out of sight of everyone else, Roman turned Victor around and took his face in his hands.

“Who fucking did this to you? No-doesn’t fucking matter! Anyone who even fucking looked at you is dead. You hear me? Fucking dead!”

“I did it to myself—”

“Only because you fucking had to. Doesn’t mean there aren’t others to blame.”

The words made Victor smile as he looked up at him. Roman understood him. He understood him so fucking well, better than anyone else. Victor hadn’t had to say anything. Roman just knew. It was the best drug Victor had ever tasted.

Roman grabbed the arm he’d sliced open. He turned it over. “What did you use?”

“Paperclip.”

Roman made a disgusted face before he suddenly asked, “They kept your knives?”

Victor nodded.

“I’ll pay some fucker off to get them back. You should have called me.”

“Would have if I’d had a chance. Threw me in a room and didn’t open it again until hours later.”

“Stupid fucking fucks! How dare they touch what’s mine! I want their fucking faces in a jar that I can send to their fucking whores!”

“Later,” Victor said with a low chuckle. “Even without physical evidence, doing that would cause a lot of trouble for us. For you. I fucked with their heads enough just by slipping out of their hands.”

“Still, I’ll get your fucking knives back,” replied Roman. “Those fucking bastards. Go upstairs. I’ll send the doctor up. And don’t get fucking blood on anything!”

“Yes, boss.”

Roman quickly walked back into the main room of the club. Victor headed to the higher floors. He poured himself a glass of bourbon before collapsing on the couch. His open wounds had mostly dried. He just had to be careful with holding his arm close so that he didn’t stain anything else. Instead his blood just continued to stain his own shirt as he continued to nurse the bourbon.

He’d finished it by the time the doctor came up. The man helped straighten his nose, stitched up one of the larger cuts in his mouth. The rest of them were small enough to heal on their own. He checked Victor’s neck too. Thankfully, the bruising was mostly surface level. No permanent damage. Then came the arm. The doctor cleaned it to help prevent infection and covered it. However, he didn’t do anything that would help it heal better. There would be a nice, deep scar there once it was completely done.

“I-is there anything else?”

Victor shook his head. Normally he would have clacked his teeth together. Made the doctor jump back in fright. He was too tired though. He just rolled over a little, hugging his arm close as his stomach growled. He actually fell asleep like that. Curled up and covered in blood. At any other point, it would have been a good way to end a busy day.

Instead, he slipped into the dark. He didn’t dream, just found some peace before he felt fingers in his hair.

Any slight touch, even a sound from someone entering, would have normally set him off. He would have woken up, grabbed something to defend himself if necessary. But he felt safe here. He recognized the fingers, the way they moved. He let out a slight sigh. His eyes flickered open. Roman was perched just on the edge of the couch.

One glance around told Victor it was nighttime. He imagined it must be late though if Roman was willing to leave his business. Either it was getting close to the morning, or something had happened and Roman had kicked everyone out in a rage.

Either option was possible.

Upon noticing Victor was awake, Roman gripped his shoulder and shifted him over. His eyes moved over the couch, looking for blood spots. When he didn’t find any though, he let Victor relax back into the previous position. His fingers returned.

Victor was used to giving everything to Roman. Every time he got an opportunity, he wanted to be near, to worship him. Sometimes it was by Roman’s order. Other times Victor took the initiative. Then there were the moments where it was more a mutual meeting of teeth and tongues like they were trying to figure out who could fuck the other to death faster.

A moment like this was far rarer.

Roman wasn’t demanding an action from Victor, nor was their carefully planned violence behind his touches. Victor liked the violence, preferred it in fact. But he was still incredibly tired even with having passed out for hours. If Roman had wanted to hit him, throw him around, fuck him into the wall, Victor would have gladly taken it. He was happy to stay in his spot though, Roman’s fingers possessively petting him like a large dog.

“How are you doing Victor?” Not Mr. Zsasz or even just Zsasz. Must have been really pissed.

“Well enough to kill for you,” Victor sighed as his eyes slipped shut again.

“Good.” A pause. Then the emotion broke through, even angrier and hotter than it had been when Roman’s eyes had first spotted the damage on Victor. “They took you! Took what was fucking mine! I’ll kill every last one for that. With my bare fucking hands if I have to. Just to make sure I know the exact god damn fucking moment when the life drains from their fucking worthless faces.”

“I’d like to see that,” whispered Victor.

A dark chuckle managed to escape Roman’s lips, though Victor could still hear the stress behind it. “Yes, I’m sure you would. But first—”

Roman smacked the side of his head hard. Victor let out a soft whine, but Roman’s fingers were back just as quickly, going through his short hair.

“That’s for the fucking car.”

“Sorry boss.”

“You did what you had to,” Roman said with a slightly annoyed sigh. He clearly cared about the trouble it would take to clean the bloodstains, but he at least equally cared about Victor’s wellbeing too. It made Victor smile as Roman’s hand finally travelled down. He traced what wounds were on Victor’s face, the slight swelling of his nose, the dried blood still there. His fingers even traced the bruises on Victor’s neck, acting like that of a jealous lover. That made Victor smile too. No one got to hurt Victor, except Roman. No one got to just touch Roman’s things like that.

“What do you need?” asked Roman.

Victor’s stomach growled in answer.

“The fucking pigs couldn’t spare a drop for you, hmm,” Roman said with a distasteful sigh. “You’ve done as asked these past weeks. You’ve been extremely helpful with dismantling that club from the outside in. This was simply poor timing. So, what would you like? Nothing is out of your reach.”

Victor’s lips quirked up at that. “Hmm…a cheeseburger.”

Roman’s hand recoiled like he’d been burned. “Disgusting. I said anything.”

“Double cheeseburger. From that place I like.”

“I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”

“Sure you do.”

Roman hit him for that. Victor softly laughed as Roman said, “I offer you whatever and still you prove to be disgusting. And speaking of, you look like fucking shit and smell. You may not have gotten blood on the couch, but you sweating everywhere is almost as bad.”

Since Roman had completely removed his hand and even stood up, Victor felt like a message was being given. He pushed himself up. “Sorry for the trouble boss. I’ll go now—”

“Did I fucking dismiss you? No! Go take a fucking shower Zsasz. And don’t you dare think about changing back into those fucking cloths. It’s bad enough you’ll do that when they’re not completely destroyed.”

“Understood,” Victor replied. He fully stood up and stretched a little. He could feel the scabbing over his arm breaking open a little before he headed to the shower.

He wasn’t sure if Roman would actually want him to stay afterwards or not. If he was dismissed, then Victor hoped for one more goodbye before the end of the night. Just one touch, maybe a kiss or another hit across the face. Anything would be welcomed. Still, he took his time once alone in the restroom. He had to remove the bandages around his arm, take off his clothes. And once under the hot spray of the water, Victor could only stand there and sigh for a few minutes. There was still an ache in his bones that reminded him of just how tensed he’d become at his tallies being off. Finally washing away that horrid feeling, knowing that his marks were correct, it loosened him.

When he finally stepped out of the shower, he noted that his clothes were conveniently gone. Knowing Roman, he had probably already had them burned, not wanting to remember the time when what was his had been fucked with. Shame, Victor had been partial to the shirt.

He dried himself, but found he had to be careful with his arm. Unsurprisingly, it had opened up again under the hot water. It wasn’t bleeding too badly, but enough that Roman would have been pissed if Victor ruined a towel.

So probably best to take care of that first, then figure out if Roman wished for him to stay or not.

He checked his phone before all that though, it being the only thing of Victor’s left in the bathroom. He only looked at one of the unread texts from Roman. Then he deleted the rest. There was a sense of desperation in them. One that had probably grown more violent and confused as the texts had been sent. Knowing Roman put that kind of emotion towards Victor warmed his heart. However, it risked showing a weakness. It risked making Victor a weakness. Because of that, he made sure there at least wasn’t a trace of them on his end.

Since he had no clothes though, he left his phone in the bathroom. As he walked out, he got more proof that Roman had been extremely worried. Across the long table that was one of the first things people saw when walking in were four items. The first was another full glass of bourbon.

Victor walked over and downed it in one go.

The second item was a small container of first aid supplies. Victor took out what he needed, padding at the blood before wrapping up his arm again. As he did that, he looked at the third item.

The greasy bag was sat on a tray so it wouldn’t fuck up the table.

It made Victor laugh. Yeah, he’d known Roman fucking knew what greasy fucking joint he liked to frequent. He would eat what Roman fed him. It wasn’t like it was bad. But he would never kick the really shit food no matter how much he was introduced to the ‘cultured’ food of the world. Wait. The joint didn’t have twenty-four-hour service. Did it?

Ah, Roman must have had someone tear the poor greaser out of bed and made the guy make it at gunpoint. How romantic.

The last item was new sleepwear.

All those items told Victor that Roman must have been really upset about his disappearing. It was all very excessive compared to what Roman usually thrust upon him. Victor imagined if he hadn’t told Roman it was a bad idea, he would have probably kidnapped the police officers and detectives too. They’d be drugged, wrapped up and waiting for him with everything else. It would have been an extremely appreciative gift. One day, Victor would like to do just that, and he’d make sure Roman was there to watch. But time needed to pass before that so that the other cops didn’t immediately think of them. Besides, Roman had done more than enough for him at the moment. The cops would have been overkill.

Victor finished wrapping his arm, got dressed, and sat down. He pulled the bag close. The alcohol had his head in a very light buzz and his chest warm as he immediately began to shove the food in his mouth. Around that point, Roman finally reappeared.

From his expression, Victor guessed he’d been talking business just moments before. He was dressed for bed though, his usual robe just barely slipping off his shoulders. He spotted Victor.

Oh, how he loved the way Roman’s nose scrunched up and his eyes narrowed.

“I fucking hate you. I’ve taken you to restaurants that have waiting lists set up for a year in advance and still, when push comes to fucking shove, you’ll choose this shit.”

Victor swallowed. “Thank you.”

“You fucking better,” grumbled Roman.

He walked by and grabbed Victor’s glass that had previously been full of bourbon. It was surprising. It became even more so when Roman grabbed a glass for himself and filled both. He downed his own without difficulty before walking back to hand Victor his own. Roman almost never served Victor anything. Not by his own hands anyways.

Victor sipped at his new glass in-between the bites. However, he paused when he felt Roman’s hands going through his hair. He took another sip of bourbon, then set everything down as he felt Roman press his nose to the top of Victor’s head.

He could feel Roman breathing him in. Roman’s fingertips brushed against the sides of Victor’s head. Then his hands rested on Victor’s bare shoulders, gripping him hard enough to bruise. He could feel Roman leaning against him, face still pressed to the back of his head.

“You’re forever loyal. You’ll never fucking leave me. Right?”

It was the only thing that Roman could ever say that actually stung and yet didn’t bring forth any hint of pleasure. It hurt in a way that almost no one could cause Victor anymore. The only reason the words didn’t hurt worse was because Victor knew the context. He hadn’t responded to Roman for nearly twenty-four hours. The doubt, though small, had filtered into Roman’s mind.

Victor responded honestly. “Only in a body bag, Roman. And even that I wouldn’t count as a certainty.” He would fucking die for Roman if he had to. But then he would try his damnedest to crawl right back out of hell to be by his side again.

“Good. Good,” whispered Roman. The doubt seemed to fall away, and the softness of the scene disappeared. Roman’s more irritable mood returned as he moved back. “When you finish, come to bed. But fucking wash your face. I’m not having your greasy fucking lips anywhere near me.”

“Understood.”

Roman just let out another low grumble and walked away. Victor finished quickly. He cleaned up the space, throwing away some things or setting them away to be fully cleaned up by someone else later. He also washed his face again as Roman had asked before moving to the bedroom.

Victor slipped in. Only a few seconds later did Roman grab him, possessively so, and push him onto his back.

“No one fucking touches mine.”

“No one,” agreed Victor.

Roman bent down and kissed him in a way that had their teeth scrapping against each other. Victor’s back began to arch upwards, but Roman forced him down with a hand. Now that Roman had Victor back, had ensured that he was his, he was going to show it too. Victor pushed a bit, but only enough so Roman could force him back into place. Normally, Roman wished to be worshiped after a long day, or he wanted a fight to blow off some steam. Now he wanted complete and utter control, so Victor relinquished his.

“The moment it’s safe, I want you to find the man who laid his hands around your throat,” hissed Roman as he covered the bruises with his own hand.

This was the pain that Victor loved. He could feel Roman’s perfectly clipped fingernails digging into his skin. His legs widened. He tried to pull him closer, but he only got as close as Roman would allow.

“I want you to find him,” repeated Roman whenever his lips moved away from Victor. “I want you to cut him open.”

Another kiss. Victor was practically choking on Roman’s tongue. Then Roman moved back. Victor tried his fucking hardest to follow, but Roman kept him down. Roman pressed his cheek against Victor’s and whispered in his ear.

“And I want you to hang him by his fucking intestines.”

Victor groaned at the very thought. The noise changed to a full-on cry as Roman slammed into him. One of Roman’s hands stayed pressed against the wall, giving him support as his other hand continued to choke Victor. He could feel the new tally reopening again, the blood blossoming under the new bandage. The feeling helped to send Victor over the edge. Roman in him, on him, and the feel of blood being spilled.

When Roman finally released him, Victor reached up. Their lips met, the touch a little less intense but no less violent. The stitching on the inside of Victor’s mouth had broken open. When they parted, blood shined red across their teeth.

“I’d carve out my heart,” whispered Victor. “Carve it up and serve it to you if you asked. Only you.”

“You think you could slice yourself open fast enough to succeed before dying?”

“You’ve seen me in the middle of my work. You tell me.”

Roman thought about it for a split second. He leaned down to kiss Victor again. “I think you could,” he whispered against his lips. “But it’s sadly something I’ll never see. Can’t have my best man dying on me, even in such a gorgeous way.”

The words made Victor grin as Roman moved off him. Victor wanted to pull him close, but Roman pushed his hands off.

“I am taking a shower, and you are going to re-wrap that arm. If a drop of blood hits these sheets, I’ll flay you.”

“Yes sir.”

Roman removed himself. Victor stretched in the sheets before getting up as well.

He did as asked, but he also did the unspoken. He knew Roman well enough that it was a rare day when he would willingly fall asleep in sex filled streets. Victor changed them after changing the covering on his arm. Then he pulled the shorts back on. He would have joined Roman in the shower, but he would have gotten yelled at for making the whole thing pointless. Instead, Victor leaned on the other side of the glass. They talked business as Victor watched Roman run his fingers through his hair and soap over his body through the foggy glass. Victor’s eyes took in every detail of Roman like it was the first time.

Once Roman was out, he didn’t stop talking business. Victor followed. He listened to the ideas, gave his own when he felt he could give beneficial input. Then Roman got in bed and gestured for Victor to join him.

The moment Victor was close, Roman grabbed the wrapped arm and pulled Victor’s body into him.

Roman gave the bandages a critical look. One finger pressed hard against it. Blood started to pool again. The white speckled with red dots.

“It’ll be an ugly fucking scar.”

Victor made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. Knowing that almost made up for all the pain he’d gone through to get it.

“I still mean it. Keep track of that motherfucker who choked you. The moment you see a safe chance, I’ll put everything aside to watch you turn that piece of shit inside out.”

“I will. Promise. The same promise I give you with every kill. The same promise that I hold saying I won’t ever leave you.”

“Good. I swear. I sometimes wonder where the fuck I would be without your skillsets.”

“Still on your way to be a king,” promised Victor. “But I’m honored to follow that rise with you.”

“As fucking anyone should.” Roman shifted downwards, finally lying back. He didn’t let go of Victor’s bandaged arm though, meaning Victor was forced to shift down with him. It was so fucking close. Each breath Victor could smell Roman, and he fucking adored it. If there was a way to live his life while never leaving Roman’s side, Victor would have taken it.

As it stood, he took advantage of the moment, imprinting every detail into his brain for later as he was gifted permission to fall asleep next to Roman again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay next chapter! Also, the next one is definitely going to be the last one now that everything is planned out. I'll be sad to leave this story so soon, but hey. Maybe I'll try to write something else for these two later on. Otherwise, I'm really happy with how this is turning out and can't wait to write the ending.
> 
> Also, the rating change isn't for this chapter, but it will be for the next one. It's going to get dark and bloody. Thank you for all the kudos and comments and I hope you enjoy <3

After a bit of a struggle, Victor had his knives back. With the passage of time, the scar on Victor’s arm had healed too. It was still fresh and pink, but the scabbing was finally gone. He liked how much more noticeable it was compared to the others. Crooked and irregular rather than a smooth line. It acted as a good reminder.

One, he should probably not waste so much time between a kill and the tally again, even if he was starving like before. There was no telling when a fucking cop would try to pull that shit again. Or hell, maybe a rival gang or the mob would try to fucking take him at some point. They’d tried before. Victor had of course dispatched them with ease, but he also hadn’t been distracted from a mark being off. Best to correct it before a fire fight where he would undoubtably have bodies to add to his tallies as well.

The second reminder that the scar gave him though involved Roman. He hadn’t said the exact words, but Victor had seen it, perhaps the clearest showing of it ever. Roman needed him. Victor had always known that, but now he knew Roman was at least a little aware of it as well. It warmed his heart like the thought of setting someone’s skin on fire.

But to be worthy of such feelings meant Victor needed to continue to do his absolute most. So, when the number of orders wilted a little and Victor was working more as a bodyguard than a hitman, he turned his thoughts back to helping Roman’s lows.

They still occasionally came.

They still hurt Victor to see Roman like that.

He wanted them to stop so fucking badly. He’d kill anyone to succeed in that.

When another low came despite how fucking successful the business had been, Victor took a chance. He decided to directly ask first. If Roman said no or acted violently, he would try another route or risk a peek later on.

In the moment, Victor waited until they were alone. Then he said, “May I see your phone?”

“What fucking for?” Roman slurred the words with a tired sigh. The fact that he was willing to speak at all was a good sign. However, Victor could still tell this low was going to be particularly bad from Roman’s lackluster tone. He’d started drinking heavily once in his space and didn’t look like he was planning on stopping any time soon either. At least this time he wasn’t mixing other substances with it.

“I think I should know who recently texted you.” Honesty first. He would lie later if he had to.

“Why?” whispered Roman.

The way he said it broke Victor’s heart. He put an arm on Roman’s shoulder and leaned down. “Because I’m doing my job. I’m protecting you and your interests.”

Roman scoffed before pouring what was already his fourth drink and started to down that. This was definitely one of the more destructive lows than outright silent ones. Victor could never tell which versions were worse. However, letting Roman get drunk might be the best option. Victor didn’t stop him and simply pressed again.

“May I see your phone?”

Roman shrugged. He made an overly expressive face and buzzed his lips. “Fucking go for it. Like I give a shit right now.” He finished the rest of his drink like a drowning man breathing in air. His hand started to reach for the bottle again. Roman almost knocked it over by accident instead. To be fair, he’d missed dinner and was pouring each glass like it was a beer rather than bourbon. Victor easily caught it. He pressed it into Roman’s hands and then went straight for the phone.

He came back and tried to take Roman’s right hand. However, he stubbornly held onto the bottle and took a swig straight from it as if in defiance. Victor rolled his eyes. He set down Roman’s phone and then snatched the bottle out of Roman’s hand. Victor put it in Roman’s left one before he could complain too much, grabbed his right, specifically the thumb, and then finally managed to unlock his phone.

Victor stayed as Roman continued to drink and drink. The entire time he carefully went over the contents within Roman’s phone, but he only really delved into the parts he believed he needed. He was doing this to better Roman. Looking into anything more than that would have been unnecessary and a breach of trust.

It didn’t take long to find the one contact that was unique to all others. Everything else was simply one name, sometimes a codename or something made up, but usually it was just the last name listed. Victor recognized pretty much everyone. Their men, business partners, contacts outside the city, a few even out of the country, and his own last name-saved as an emergency contact he might add. But there was one contact that wasn’t a last name. Or any name actually.

It said ‘don’t answer’ in all caps, like some kind of subconscious warning. So, there was some small level of understanding on Roman’s part, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

Going through the call history, there weren’t many missed calls coming from that contact, or any calls at all. Victor wondered if they’d been more common at one point or another and had slowly tapered off. Or had there always been a great distance between them?

The next step was looking at what texts there were.

The only ones were the most recent and a set from a few weeks ago. Looking at the dates and times, the other ones correlated with the last low. Any before then had probably been automatically deleted.

Victor went through the first set with a critical eye.

_I was told there was an explosion on the west side. One of our warehouses was damaged._

There wasn’t a response from Roman at first. The next text read:

_If you’re going to act out, the least you could do is not impact the family business._

Now there was a response from Roman. It had been sent seconds in response to the last one.

_Don’t know what you’re talking about. And not my fucking job._

There were a couple more texts claiming that it was Roman’s fucking job. Then nothing for several weeks, up until just a few hours before the current low had come out.

 _You’re needed at a soiree_ —Who even used language like that anymore? Just call it a fucking party. Jesus, pretentious fucker.— _and you had better fucking behave yourself._

Roman had responded with: _Not going to shit._

_You may see yourself as striking out, but as far as our associates are concerned, there is still a future for this company and that includes you. You being split from us will not be announced publicly now nor ever._

_I’m not your fucking bitch!_

_Then stop acting like one._

Roman hadn’t responded after that. However, the sender-Victor’s first guess was it was Sionis Sr. or else his mother was just a huge fucking cunt-had gone ahead and sent all party details. It would occur within the next two days.

Victor memorized the details before putting Roman’s phone back in its place. He then went to check on Roman who had already passed out by that point.

He smoothed Roman’s hair.

He threw away the newly opened, yet now empty, bottle and cleaned the glass.

Then a kiss, short and sweet against Roman’s forehead before he carefully removed his sunglasses and put them aside. If he slumped over and bent them, it would just be another thing to get pissy about besides the hangover that he’d undeniably be dealing with once awake. Victor then went downstairs, making sure to give an order that Roman wasn’t to be disturbed unless absolutely required.

Next, it was time to work.

He left the club and chose to just roam around Gotham as he did. If Roman woke up and needed him or something else occurred, he could respond right away. However, Victor needed to be alone to better understand what to do next.

The first step was at least simple, if a little time consuming. Victor started researching. He needed to understand if Roman being asked to join their stupid fucking gathering this week was actually a thing, or if the current situation was a unique one. From what he found, the sender had been correct about never mentioning the split between Roman and his family. Oh, Roman and his business were known amongst the criminal underworld for sure, each day becoming more and more prolific. However, all professional publications and legal interactions never mentioned any kind of falling out. In fact, even going back over a decade, there was barely any mention of Roman at all.

It made a deep frown set into Victor’s face.

His best guess was that this showed the relationship had always been rocky. Victor tried to go even farther back. It was something he would have never done before, but he needed more context. Only…there was barely any of that either. In fact, if he hadn’t already known Roman was the son of the Sionis’, then he felt like he wouldn’t have found shit. It was like they’d tried to fucking hide him from the world. The only confirmation that Roman was their son at all was a small article about his birth years ago, and public photos from his high school and college graduation ceremonies, only one which actually contained an image of Roman with his parents.

He was sure that hacking some systems, going deeper than what was accessible on the public internet, would have given him more, but it was still shocking that so little was shown. Even if the Sionis’ were considered reclusive, they were still a prolific family in charge of a large company.

Were they trying to control the narrative? That was Victor’s best guess. Considering how unhinged Roman could be, Victor doubted he’d really been an angel growing up. There had to be some mention of an arrest. A party that got out of hand, drunk driving incident, fight at school, or just something. But if those incidents had occurred, they’d been carefully covered up.

And as for meetings or private parties, there was little publication about what had gone down at them. The only clue that Roman might have gone to them in the past was that sometimes the articles said ‘the Sionis’’ and other times said ‘the Sionis Family’, implying Roman might have made an appearance. However, it had been some years since then. The last time that Roman might have gone, Victor had already been a part of Roman’s business. However, he hadn’t been allowed at Roman’s side yet, so it made sense he wouldn’t have known.

With what information could be gathered, Victor paused to grab a bite to eat. Then he changed course.

Using the information that had been sent to Roman’s phone, Victor tracked down the location of the future party. It was in the middle of Gotham in a penthouse far above the squalor like some how they could avoid the filth beneath them.

Victor proved those assumptions wrong in just under a few hours. He broke in after a quick rundown of their security systems, counting out the guards, and seeing what the general look was of the people that came and went from the building. He even recognized a few faces that they’d done business with, selling illegal guns, drugs, whatever.

It made Victor laugh. Gotham was rotten to the very fucking core, marble countertops or no marble countertops.

He walked the space, also did reconnaissance in nearby buildings or lower rooftops. There were a few spaces he could set up and spy on the party from there. However, if he was really going to help Roman’s lows, then he needed at least one direct interaction. Just to prove that his assumptions were truly right.

The entire process took all day, though thankfully no one else had called to interrupt the reconnaissance.

On the way back, Victor decided to walk. It gave him time to run the different plans through his head, think up contingencies and what-if scenarios.

He was only really brought out of his head when he took a shortcut through an alleyway. A homeless woman nearly tripped him, crying about spare change.

Victor could have given something to her.

He could have cursed at her before kicking her off.

He could have walked on like nothing had happened.

All options were possible depending on his mood and current train of thought. Sadly, for her at least, the woman caught him in the middle of the creative process. With his mind full of wonderfully, horrific plans, he simply bent down and snapped her neck for the hell of it.

Victor lightly laughed to himself. Her neck had created a perfect popping sound. Made him think of popcorn. Huh, he was hungry again.

Before walking out of the alleyway though, he did take out a knife. He pulled up his shirt and gave himself a nice, deep cut near his lower ribs. Thankfully, the shirt was dark so it wasn’t like many would notice, especially at night.

He stopped by his own dingy, little apartment. He hardly ever used it anymore, the place a glorified closet and weapons wrack more than anything. He covered the cut, got a new shirt, and then headed to the club.

Victor didn’t directly bring up the text message.

He didn’t ask if Roman was actually going to go.

He simply followed.

Stuck to Roman’s side over the next couple of days.

And then he got his answers. Not from asking, but just sitting and waiting.

“You. You’re in charge. Zsasz, you’ve got the night off. If I hear anything has gone poorly, I’ll have Zsasz kill every fucking person in this room. Understood? Good. Get to work people!” Roman seemed in more of a hurry than usual. So he wanted to get this over with?

Victor nodded in Roman’s direction as he quickly walked by.

He waited until Roman had left his club.

Then, despite having the night off, he went to work just as he’d planned.

Since it seemed Roman was going, that changed his plans a little, but not by much. He had thought of just about every eventuality possible after all. Victor let Roman take whatever path he was going to do, any preparation he might need. Victor just went straight downtown.

He wasn’t going to try and blend in or hide. Even if he did, putting on a fancy fucking suit or even pretending to be a waiter wouldn’t have hidden him. His bleached hair, the scars, even his way of walking would have given him away anyways. No, Victor simply broke into the building again. There was extra security, probably for all the visiting rich fucks. It didn’t matter though. Victor still got in without issue, and he only had to knock one fucker out.

Killing him would have been more fun, but likely would have caused problems in the long run. Besides, he hadn’t been seen, and the goal wasn’t to kill anyone. Not yet. He just needed to see first.

After tying up the unconscious guard, he headed up to the right floor. He waited a bit to give Roman more time to arrive. Then he snuck into the kitchen area. In there, he was spotted rather quickly. However, he didn’t really have an issue with that. He jumped onto a table, grabbed a tray full of some weird mini-shit that probably had a foreign name. He wasn’t sure, just that they tasted amazing.

And as he ate those, the kitchen staff stared.

“Ah, don’t mind me. Just had to get away from the party. You know? Always felt more comfortable in a kitchen.” Not for the reasons that probably came to their minds, but oh well.

They all just continued to stare, absolutely gob smacked. When they did start to work again, they continually looked over their shoulder. They probably didn’t believe he’d been invited in any capacity. But this was also the kitchen staff. They weren’t meant to see the guests. They didn’t know. And if he was a guest, well they probably feared getting in trouble for telling some rich guy off. No one really knew what to do. Most only felt comfortable in returning to their work and avoiding Victor’s gaze. However, someone finally did grow a pair.

Victor didn’t know who, but eventually what was probably head of the staff around here, maybe just head of the kitchen, came in and up to him. He was dressed in a suit but gave off the distinct impression that he was trying to be something he wasn’t. Probably pretending to be higher class or simply more refined.

Either way, the guy looked like he was ready to stand his ground. Like he expected it to be someone’s girlfriend or kid they’d snuck into the back.

Then he took one look at Victor.

It was hard to say if he recognized Victor in any official capacity. He might have just been put off by his expectations being shattered.

Before he could get out a complete sentence, Victor hopped down. “Thanks for the break guys. I should probably get back to the Sionis’ though.”

More blabbering from the guy. More confusion from the rest of the kitchen staff as they recognized the family name but couldn’t tell what the hell he had to do with them. It made Victor smile to himself as he finally walked into the main space. Now that everything was in full swing, Victor didn’t feel as out of place as he had expected.

Did he stick out like a sore thumb?

Absolutely.

Did people pause their conversations to turn and look at him?

Yep.

However, it seemed this private party for business was occurring in the context of some type of private art display. Victor still hated these fancy gatherings. Most of the paintings he didn’t understand the fucking meaning behind them. Especially the ones with random colors thrown at the canvas like that somehow proved the creator had some bullshit epiphany no one else could reach.

But, to be fair, he’d gone to a lot of private auctions, art galleries, displays, since coming into Roman’s employment. He didn’t get any direct enjoyment out of it, except for an occasionally macabre image that might have caught his attention more than the others. However, at its core, being around the art reminded him of Roman now.

It brought a small smile to Victor’s lips, even before his eyes actually caught sight of Roman.

When he did seem him though, it was like finding the one shining light in all the filth. Unlike most of the ugly mugs in their plain black suits with maybe a unique set of cufflinks, Roman easily stood out amongst the fodder. Victor imagined that if he hadn’t been there, all eyes would have been on Roman.

As it stood though, everyone was staring at him except for Roman. His back was turned and a quick analysis of the people he was talking to told Victor it was the parents. They were a bit older than the latest photo Victor had found, but not by much. They had that weirdly sick, hanging onto lost youth kind of look that only the rich could buy. He quickly took in Roman’s stance before he was spotted.

Stiff shoulders.

An inability to stay still, worse than usual.

And as Victor got closer, a harsh but defeated tone to his voice.

Roman didn’t want to be here. Roman never did anything he didn’t want to do. Yet here he was. Something had compelled him to come, but it clearly didn’t originate from any sense of love for his parents. Victor’s suspicions were beginning to be proven. He didn’t fully understand the compulsion, but he was beginning to see what this pain at Roman’s center was that had been dragging him down into his lows. Victor wanted a little more information-hopefully he would get it tonight.

But a plan was already forming.

A plan to help Roman and hopefully lessen these lows.

Victor was close when Roman finally seemed to realize his parents weren’t paying him any attention. There was a defeated slump to his shoulders. He didn’t even automatically turn around. It was like he’d expected to not be at the center of their attention anyways. Roman loved attention. He thrived on it like the human body’s need for water. If he wasn’t at the center of it, he almost always grew violent. He fucking deserved it after all, so much more than any of these fucking people. It was one of the many reasons why he hated that Harley bitch so much.

Yet here, Roman didn’t react with violence. It was like his usual tempers and reactions were caged. Caged by the older man and woman at his side.

Victor would gladly unlock that cage using any force necessary.

It seemed that the Sionis’ had finally noticed that Victor’s attention was completely devoted to them. Roman still hadn’t turned around though. Instead, Victor saw a slow change occur. His shoulders stiffened even more before hesitantly relaxing.

Just as Victor could, Roman recognized his mere presence.

Because of that, the surprise was mild. Roman looked more confused when he finally turned around to see Victor standing there.

Victor instinctively stood near Roman, slightly behind his shoulder. Upon Roman’s confused gaze, Victor just happily smiled back. If he wanted answers later, if he asked them or wanted to beat them out of Victor, either or was fine. At least for the moment though, Roman’s father spoke first.

“Roman, do you know this…man?”

There was a split second of silence. The people around them hesitantly turned away. A few looked incredibly thankful that Victor’s attention hadn’t been directed at them. Victor simply looked to Roman for how he wanted to lead.

The change was slight. Not as manic as usual, but it did please Victor to see a little light return to Roman’s eyes. It seemed that Victor’s presence had given Roman an opening. He wasn’t going to kick down the fucking doors, but the cage around him seemed to weaken just a little.

He turned to his father. “He’s one of mine.”

“One of your what?”

The distaste was clear in his tone, but Victor hadn’t turned to look at him. His eyes were all for Roman, waiting for some type of signal, some type of command. Roman looked at Victor. He raised an eyebrow. Victor took the hint. It was his choice as to how he wanted to describe his role under Roman. He finally focused back on the parents, specifically the father.

“I’m Roman’s.”

He could tell Roman delighted in how he’d said it, even if he didn’t express it as much as he might have in another context.

“Yes, but what do you do?” growled Richard Sionis. The man seemed to have a short temper. However, Victor guessed he had better control over it than most since the only sign was the growing irritation in his tone and a twitch of the forehead.

Victor looked to Roman again. Roman simply looked back. Victor turned back to Sionis Sr. and let his smile grow a little wider. “Mainly Roman.”

Roman’s mother finally made a noise, a little gasp at the crassness of the situation. Richard Sionis’ expression didn’t outright change. If anyone looked over, they would have simply seen an older man having an even conversation. However, his soft voice, which was clearly meant for only Roman, allowed what he was really feeling to slip out.

“If you think by bringing this thing here that you’re making a statement, you’re just making an ass of yourself.”

If anyone else had said that, Roman would have exploded. He would have demanded someone to smash the fucker’s head into a table, maybe even done it himself. Here though, Roman didn’t immediately react. Victor could see it underneath his muscles. A crashing wave that wanted to get out. But Roman didn’t open up the floodgates. In fact, he didn’t say anything.

Richard Sionis continued. “I try day after day to explain away your fucking behavior, to make people think you’re still a part of this family. Yet even now you continue to make every effort to disrupt my attempts at maintaining this public image.”

He didn’t rase his voice. That somehow made it worse, even with the words not being directed Victor’s way. It raised his own anger. Made him want to act then and there, regardless of witnesses. He barely managed to hold it back. He silently watched as Roman stepped closer to his father.

“Then simply let me go.”

“No.”

It was hard to say if a fight would actually come out of that. Before either’s anger could really blossom forth, if they were even willing to do that in public, someone interrupted. Victor’s presence was clearly making them uncomfortable, but it at least turned the conversation in a different direction.

Victor’s gaze turned back to Roman.

Roman’s presence felt diminished, slightly covered and suppressed by his parents, especially with his father at his side. Victor carefully took it all in. He would likely have to pay them a solo visit later on, but for now, he was getting some much needed context.

When the interrupter left, Richard Sionis grabbed his son’s arm. “Send your thing away.”

“He’s my plus one,” Roman said. There was some sarcasm in his voice, some heat. But also a sense of desperation that Victor absolutely hated to hear. Roman hadn’t expected the small reprieve, but with Victor here, it was clear he didn’t want to let him go yet.

Victor immediately decided that he would stay. It didn’t matter what the parents said, what Roman even said. As long as Victor could tell he was needed, he would stay.

Still, he remained silent over the arguing that was occurring in front of him. Roman’s mother was still silent. For a moment, Victor wondered if there was some level of chains on her. There might have been. However, he ultimately concluded she simply didn’t care enough. She easily slipped into another conversation like the argument between Roman and Richard wasn’t even occurring.

“You won’t send him away, fine. But we will be talking about this later.”

Something about the words implied that this kind of ‘talk’ had occurred before. Victor’s eyes narrowed. Richard Sionis caught sight of it. To be fair, the man didn’t flinch away. Victor had already decided he hated the man’s guts, but he had some fucking balls on him if he was willing to stare Victor down.

“Disgusting cretin.” He focused back on Roman. “Make your rounds. And I’ll know if you’ve left early.”

Richard Sionis went to his wife. His arm wrapped around hers and they easily left one conversation to go to another. Victor moved to just behind Roman again. They glanced at each other for a second. Roman’s brow was furrowed, still trying to figure out how and why he was there. Victor’s face remained utterly open. What did Roman want from him? Talk now or later? Anything, anything except leaving Roman’s side, Victor would do.

Roman managed to read it in his face alone.

They didn’t say a word.

Words weren’t needed.

Roman just finally nodded. He turned and started the rounds as he’d been asked to do. Victor stayed close behind. Though he could tell Roman wasn’t enjoying himself, the added aspect of Victor terrifying everyone around them managed to quirk his lips up every now and then.

It wasn’t long before they finally met up with Roman’s father and mother again. The change to his posture was immediate.

Richard Sionis looked to Victor again. “At least you can keep that thing to behave.”

“I am capable,” Roman hissed.

“Barely,” Richard Sionis said with a disappointed sigh. He immediately started to talk business, the mother completely silent except for a few noises of agreement here and there.

Victor continued to stay the silent partner. He didn’t care about the name calling. He didn’t even care about being mostly ignored. He didn’t want the Sionis’ attention anyways. Just one’s. Besides, not being in the middle of the conversation allowed him to take plenty of notes. He had ideas of what he would use, the weapons, the positioning, every detail down to even the exact time of day. The evening sunlight just barely filtering in and shining off each blade? It was going to be perfect.

He remained for the rest of the event.

The hours that passed were torturous. He wanted to do more and more for Roman. Anything! But this wasn’t the place or time. Even with that knowledge, the need was still there. It was almost as bad as the itch of a tally. He would help Roman. He would do his job of protecting Roman, bettering him. Nothing would stop him.

Finally, the party came to an end. Richard Sionis took Roman aside. Victor couldn’t hear what was being said. But by the look on Roman’s face, it wasn’t anything good.

Roman finally nodded his head. It was the only response he gave. Then he gestured at Victor and started to walk off. Victor followed. They moved through the people. They left the main space and came out into a hallway and—

Victor felt the hands around his collar just before his body slammed into the far wall. Victor let out a heavy sigh.

“Why the fuck are you here? How the fuck did you know?!”

Victor opened his mouth to respond. However, someone-maybe from the party, maybe from some other event in the building-was starting to walk by. They looked uncertain. They looked like they might intervene or at least say a few words.

Before they could, Roman yelled at them. “Fuck the fuck off!”

The person took the hint.

Roman’s grip tightened. He slammed Victor’s back against the wall again. “How?” he repeated. His voice was low and fuming. Yet, there was some sense of desperation. Even some hope involving his query.

“I’m simply doing my job, sir,” Victor calmly said.

“Your job?” Roman scoffed. “I told you, you had the fucking night off.”

“Doesn’t mean your interests and yourself don’t need to be protected.”

Roman’s face twisted. He seemed pleased by the answer. But also so fucking tired. He still seemed upset too, wanting to throw that anger he’d kept down at anything and everyone. Finally, he fell on, “I don’t want you involved in this again. Even if it was amusing at a few points. This is _not_ your job Mr. Zsasz. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Now come on. You might as well follow me back to the club.”

Victor nodded. He stuck close behind, noting the anger that was still in Roman. It was clearly about the event he had just attended. It was about his parents. However, it seemed it would probably end up directed at some poor fuck in Roman’s business who just did the smallest thing wrong instead.

It was interesting.

Despite everything, either Roman didn’t consciously understand why Victor would put a vested interest in this, or he was trying to ignore it. He didn’t want to accept it. Couldn’t accept it.

That was alright. Retaliating against one’s parents was one of the most difficult hurdles to cross. Even Victor could acknowledge he hadn’t always been the man he was today. For quite some time, he hadn’t been able to work up the courage. Time, practice, mental workouts, it didn’t all happen overnight.

Roman might have been able to break out from the cage his parents had on him on his own.

But he wasn’t on his own. He had Victor. For the moment, Victor nodded and agreed and made promises that he wouldn’t get involved. Normally, he would never break a promise to Roman. But this was for his betterment. Victor was going to help Roman. He might be confused at first. It might take him a bit to understand, but Victor knew he would be thanked in the end.

Victor would break this last hold. This last relic of Roman’s past that he was still trying to get out of. And then Roman, his own talents, his own tenacity, the act of becoming his own man, it would be all that was left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the last chapter! Fair warning, the rating change is all because of this chapter. You have been warned.
> 
> Also a quick thank you to all the kudos and comments. This story was really fun to write and hopefully the ending proves to be a good one. Thank you again and for those interested, I also made a playlist if you're interested: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5LEOHHgP38pPQvrrEol83a?si=J6hWheVxRYi0cnvYI_x1Fg

Victor didn’t act right away.

He decided to let some time pass first. After all, he expected a low to occur, even if it didn’t crop up right away.

Instead, right after the party Victor just did his usual work. Roman actually seemed fine relatively speaking. He’d been more angry than usual. Even issues that weren’t truly mistakes got his blood boiling. He hit two of the girls, threw a glass at a guard. He was just so angry. All of it, white hot and ready for blood. The only option was to let it out whether others were in the way or not. But that wasn’t necessarily bad, and Victor didn’t mind watching the anger flow out of him. It came and came in waves. All that Roman hadn’t been able to direct towards his parent was directed at those around him. Again, and again, and again, and—

It finally happened.

Victor made sure he was present, waiting and watching as the anger diminished before completely disappearing.

After everything Victor had seen, he wasn’t surprised when the low occurred. He’d picked up on the increasing warning signs. But he was surprised on the gravity of the low. It fell upon Roman’s shoulders like all the fucking rain had fallen from the sky in one, bone crushing sheet instead of the usual droplets. Roman crumbled, physically and mentally under a weight he thought he couldn’t escape, would never escape from. The intricate, internal structure Victor didn’t completely understand. But if he was able to prevent these moments from occurring at all, then that was what mattered.

Victor had taken the initiative of canceling appointments, lying with one reason or another. He kept people from the doors and when Roman didn’t even want to get up, Victor supported him. He bathed him and dressed and finally put him to bed.

As Roman had curled inwards, Victor had pressed his nose to Roman’s back. He’d whispered the words, “I’m going to help you. I will.”

“How?” The response had been broken, disbelieving.

“In the only way I know how. But it will work. Promise.”

Roman had covered one of Victor’s hands with his own, holding on tight before finally passing out. When the low had subsided and Roman had distanced it with some sleep, he hadn’t asked what Victor had meant. It was possible he hadn’t remembered. Maybe he was trying not to remember.

But Victor liked to think that despite Roman’s attempts to ignore these parts of himself, he did remember and simply wasn’t asking because he trusted Victor that much. Roman didn’t know how to fight the lows, but maybe Victor could.

It was a promise that Victor refused to disappoint in.

Once Roman was back to his usual, manic fucking levels, that meant it was time to put in the overtime again. Victor still had a lot of work to do. There was the tracking, the breaking and entering, the counting of guards, and the choosing of the perfect warehouse. Everything would be flawless, it had to be for this.

If Victor didn’t have an order, then he was out scouting. If Roman didn’t want him at his side, then Victor was examining his knives. Which ones worked best with the body types? Which ones would cause the most damage? Or allow the most flexibility? He even thought about where the tallies might go. Once a tally needed to be made, there was sometimes a consideration as to where the kill deserved to rest. However, he rarely used up so much time to think about it before hand.

With this though-assuming he was the one to kill them and not Roman-Victor wanted to make it special. A visible place that Roman would always see no matter where they were or what Victor was wearing. His face then? Somewhere so that every time Victor looked in a mirror, he could see the devotion on his own skin? All the work he’d done for Roman despite never hearing a verbal order for this?

Victor liked the sound of that.

The process continued and, unsurprisingly, Roman noticed the divided attention. When he asked though, Victor simply replied, “It’s a surprise I would hate to ruin.”

There was a devilish interest in Roman’s eyes at that. But hesitance as well. Victor guessed again it was because Roman understood what was occurring. On some level, he had to know Victor would still keep his promise, no matter what was said before. He was protecting Roman, his business and his interests. Roman knew Victor would do anything for him. He had to have some idea of what was coming his way.

However, only in the moment would Victor really know. So, for the moment, working every single second was the goal.

Days passed. They turned into weeks. So close. He had it almost—

There. Now this would truly be fucking art.

For the first time in a long time, Victor asked Roman if he could be excused early. He made sure to ask before opening so that Roman didn’t feel put off in front of guests.

And it was obvious that Roman was thrown by the request. He blinked. His face went utterly blank. “Early?”

“Yeah boss.”

“ _Early_?”

Victor nodded.

Roman’s eyes narrowed. Victor watched as some sense of understanding was passing over him. His mind was probably going back to that promise of a surprise, wondering just what the fuck was going on. But there was trust between them. Just enough that Roman didn’t outright ask it. Instead, he asked in a haughty tone, “Should I be fucking jealous?”

“If anyone could be jealous of himself, it would be you,” Victor said, a small smile spreading across his lips. “Like always, all I do is for you.”

Roman carefully studied him for a second. Then he just rolled his eyes and let out a small scoff. “Fine, fuck off for the night. But I expect you to check in regularly. If I’m not to know what the fuck you’re doing, I want to at least know my best man hasn’t ended up in a gutter with his throat slit.”

Victor smiled. Anyone else, and he might have been offended. Like they honestly thought he would let someone just slit his throat and dump the body. But coming from Roman, it wasn’t him doubting Victor’s talents. He simply needed to know Victor would always be there for him, could come running at a moment’s notice. It made Victor’s smile grow wider as he replied, “I will, Roman,” just before leaving.

He took a car and went to get changed. There were a lot of steps he’d need to follow in order to pull this off, but it honestly wouldn’t be too difficult. He had planned this for month. It would go down without a hitch. He just needed to grab a few more supplies for the car. Everything else was waiting for him at the warehouse.

Once dressed and ready, Victor got back in the car. He drove and drove until he’d left his usual haunts of Gotham behind.

His path led him to sections that had once been unfamiliar. However, in the past weeks of work, he’d grown to know the streets and buildings like the back of his hand. He didn’t have to look at directions once.

Eventually, he made it a little outside of Gotham. He turned onto several unmarked roads and then even managed to drive off the road to his planned spot in the dark with no headlights on.

Once out, Victor took out some of his tools from the back seat. A pistol with a silencer on its barrel, a case of two filled syringes, and zip ties. He also had his usual, hidden assortment of knives.

He made sure to text Roman before he locked up the car. Just so he knew Victor was still ready to jump if he suddenly asked.

Hopefully that didn’t occur though. Victor would hate to have to reschedule.

When Roman didn’t ask for anything though, Victor put his phone away and walked through the woods. It was a short stretch, and then he came across the walled mansion.

Victor liked the struggles. He liked a good fight, a chance to show as many techniques as possible. He liked to push the possibilities of what could be done with the human skin. But he also understood there was a time and place for that. He was working up to that moment here. First, he had to be efficient.

After climbing over the wall, Victor untucked his shirt. Then he took out the pistol with his right hand and a knife with his left.

He shot a guard in the head. The entrance wound was clean. There was no exit wound as the broken bullet scrambled the brains as the body hit the floor. Victor didn’t break his pace as he used his left hand to go under his shirt and into his chest.

That pattern continued. He knew exactly how many guards there were, the time of the rotations, and the time at which anyone would come by the estate tomorrow. He was determined to prevent any interruptions from the planned sessions. Thus, the only time he put his knife away was to reload his clip. Otherwise, the pattern didn’t change. Shoot, cut, shoot, and cut again. He did flip the knife and gun at one point, shooting with his left and cutting with his right for the rest. It meant he would have equal marks going in downward slants right under his right set of ribs and his left set.

He got rid of the staff on site as well. One woman, one man. He walked into their respective rooms with ease. He shot them both in the head too, neither having time to even wake up.

That brought the final total to twenty-six. Thirteen tallies on each side.

It was the most people Victor had ever killed in such a small window of time.

With everyone dead except his sleeping targets, Victor paused to text Roman again. He was definitely still alive. Everything was ok.

Then Victor dragged all the bodies either into the main house or the side house where the staff had slept. They piled up, smelling like piss and shit, the last thing the human body could think to do as it kicked the bucket. Then Victor went ahead to the master bedroom in the house.

The gun and knife were put away. He took out the small case of syringes instead.

He went for the mother first. As predicted, she barely reacted, giving Victor more time to take the second syringe and push it into Richard Sionis’ neck.

The man’s eyes flashed open as his body jerked. But all he could do was stare before being forced under.

Victor zip tied them both, hands and legs. Then he carried Richard out of the mansion. The man was large, but with the right position Victor managed just fine. He went all the way back to the car. The body was dumped in the trunk. Then he went back for the woman. She was easier, and Victor managed to get back in almost double the speed. He put her in the trunk too and closed it.

Then he went into the backseat again to get the last tools he needed.

Thankfully, the mansion was pretty out of the way. Any night owl might see the rising smoke in the distance at some point. Whether they would then call the police would be another story, but by the time they decided, Victor would be long gone.

He went about dousing everything. Even the walkways and grass outside so that everything would get some form of damage. By the end of it, the only thing left standing would be the bare bones. Then even those would fall apart and rot away. Or maybe some other rich fuck would buy up the land and destroy it all even faster, build something on the gravesite.

Victor didn’t care. As long as the whole place only resided in the past, that was what Victor wanted.

Once he was sure everything would catch fire, especially all the bodies, he walked back to where he’d parked the car. He climbed over the wall again and texted Roman one last time before he planned to call him later. Then he took out a match, lit it, and flicked it over. He made sure he could see the flames quickly spreading. The grass and plants went up in flames and then fell apart just as quickly. But the bigger structures caught the flames and started to grow larger, licking at everything and anything that could be found.

With the fire roaring and no hint of stopping any time soon, Victor got back in the car. He drove out of the patch and back onto the road.

It didn’t take long before Victor arrived at the abandoned warehouse he’d procured. He took the unconscious pair inside first, and then began to set everything up. First, he cut the zip ties so he could sit them upright in the metal chairs. He then grabbed some new zip ties to connect them to the chairs. Then came the gags which he quickly forced into their mouths and tied tightly around their heads. Next Victor went to a barrel that was off to the side. He took all his clothes off, even his shoes, and set them ablaze inside. Before he got dressed in the clothes he’d purposefully left in the place, he covered up the new, twenty-six marks to keep them from bleeding into the new shirt. He didn’t care about clothes, but he had purposefully picked a set that he knew Roman liked on him.

Depending on what happened next, they would likely get ruined too, but he wanted to at least look nice for Roman’s entrance.

Then he went around setting out the items he planned to use. Everything was spaced apart perfectly. By that point, the fire in the barrel had died down as well. He made sure everything was thoroughly burned before dumping the ashes into a trash bag that he would throw into the harbor later.

When it was all done and prepared, the night had passed.

Victor had originally wanted to do this in the evening. He felt the twilight of the moment would have been far richer. However, it worked out better to do this in the morning. And it was morning, daybreak just barely shining in through the stained and broken windows.

Victor called Roman.

“Do you know how fucking early it is—”

“I sent the address. Come,” whispered Victor, the smile clear in his voice.

Roman was beginning to understand. However, there was still some element of confusion to his question. “Who?”

“You’ll see. Just come.”

And Victor hung up. Roman would be too enthralled to not follow. Now it was simply time to wait.

A muffled noise could be heard from the two, but Victor didn’t mind. He actually wanted them to be wide awake by the time Roman came in.

Several minutes passed, just a little over ten. Then the sound of a door opening on the far side of the warehouse occurred. Roman hadn’t wasted any time. From the sounds of it, he’d left whatever driver outside. Good, this was meant for his eyes only.

When Victor finally saw him walking over, he could see that Roman had of course gotten properly dressed. However, the slightly tousled look to his hair showed he hadn’t done his usual prep work and really had jumped out of bed to come here. It made Victor smile. He would bet few things ever got Roman moving so quickly.

Victor started to walk towards him, especially when he could tell that Roman’s eyes had recognized the people in the situation. His pace started to slow, so Victor met him.

“Mr. Zsasz, is that my mother and father you have tied up?” Roman’s voice was soft. So many emotions could be heard in it. Some good, some bad, even some hesitance that Victor quickly tried to squelch.

“Yes.”

“And may I ask why?”

“You know.”

Roman managed to focus on him for a second. “Do I?”

“Yes.” Victor took Roman’s shoulders. Now was the moment of truth. He made it so Roman could only focus on him for the moment, not the muffled noises behind him. “You don’t have to say a thing. You don’t have to verbally admit it. Even to me. Just listen. Please.”

Roman’s face twitched, but he remained silent.

Victor took it as permission to begin. “I’ve seen. I’ve seen how fucking low you can fall despite how you try to remain above it. And the moment I saw it, I knew I had to protect you from it. Don’t feel anger for that Roman. I was doing my job. I’ve always been doing my fucking job. And in doing that, I knew I needed to figure out what caused these goddamn lows. What was the center of this? How could I end it?

“And I worked. I worked so fucking hard to make sure this was all perfect for you because I found it. I realized it was this chain that held you back. A reminder of what you’d come from despite how you really are a self-made man. But now you can break that fucking chain. Your parents, your father will never order you around after this.”

Roman’s eyes rapidly moved over him before looking away. It was rare to see Roman almost speechless, and he was. He tried to say something. “I don’t…I don’t think—”

“I’ve thought of it all,” whispered Victor. He took Roman’s chin, dragging his gaze back to him. “If your father won’t remove you, then remove yourself from them. And if you receive ownership of that company you don’t need, we can burn that down too.”

Roman’s eyes lit up at that. “Too—how did you even get them out of the estate?”

“See for yourself.”

Victor only stepped back enough to lift up his shirt. Roman immediately pulled up the bandages. His fingers carefully traced each newly scabbed wound, counting the ones on the left side and then the right. As his finger finally traced the last one, he slowly straightened his back. “Twenty-six?” whispered Roman.

“Twenty-four guards and two staffers.”

“You killed twenty-six people, despite how I didn’t give you an order for a single one.”

“Yes,” Victor evenly agreed. “But you didn’t have to. I would have done anything to give you this chance, to meet your parents on equal footing. In this case, that meant killing all protection details and anyone else in the way.”

An understanding came across Roman’s face. His eyes widened. “Then you killed the driver, Jefferson?”

“Yes.”

“And the head of the kitchen? Annette.”

“Yes.”

Lesser men may have wavered. They may have thought they’d made a grave misstep as for a moment, Roman could only stare. But Victor wasn’t like those lesser men. He knew Roman, understood him and was allowed in. So Victor waited, the slight smile still in place as he let it sink in for Roman.

When it finally settled, the laughter echoed across the metal walls.

“That fucking cunt said she’d die for the god damn family. She finally got her fucking wish!” Roman had to pause, leaning over his knees as the cackling grew truly manic for a moment. When he managed to get a hold of himself, at least a bit, he grabbed Victor’s shirt and pulled him close. “And after?”

“I burned the place to the ground.”

“All of it?”

“All of it,” agreed Victor. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. I planned everything accordingly. The killings won’t be traced to me and, as for you, the only thing you’ll receive from the estate is now ash.”

“Every smug fucking portrait?”

Victor nodded.

“The clothes. The belts. The china. The cabinets. The office. The bedrooms. The vases. Everything?”

Victor nodded along with each one. “I did the best I could, but I knew you needed to be present for this final cut. I won’t pretend to understand everything. But I know you’ve struggled with getting out from under your parents’ shadows. Well I found the most beautiful fucking solution for that. No parents mean no more fucking shadows.”

Roman honestly looked amazed. He was breathing heavily, perhaps a mixture of adrenaline and arousal. “You did all this not to get ahead of me, not to use this information against me, but to free me.”

“Of course,” whispered Victor. “I killed twenty-six people last night just for you. If I thought it would take you to the top of the fucking world, I’d kill everyone in this city without hesitation.”

Victor barely finished the final word as Roman grabbed his face and kissed him. It was harsh and forceful. The best kind as Roman pushed Victor’s lips open before finally biting down on his lip and pulling back. Roman looked at him with a rabid look of wonder as he whispered, “How did I ever manage to get such a loyal fucking mongrel like you?”

“Chance. And the fact that you’re a man worth following.”

Roman grinned. But as his eyes looked over Victor’s shoulder, it did falter a bit. Victor pulled Roman’s arms down so he could take his hands.

“You can do this. If you want me to kill them here and now, anyway you’d like, I will. If you want to talk to them first, you can do that. Torture? Whatever you fucking wish for. This is your time to finally show them why they should have left you the fuck alone a long time ago.”

“You’re right. You are.” Roman agreed with him, but also said it in a way that showed he was building up to his next action. To be fair, only several weeks ago he’d been mostly following his father’s orders, standing next to them and staying silent. If Victor had asked Roman’s permission to kidnap his parents, he almost certainly would have said no. But that was why Victor hadn’t asked. He’d known what Roman needed and now it was all presented before him on a silver platter.

Roman slowly walked around Victor. He ran a hand through his hair. His head turned left and right, taking everything in. He walked by a folding chair and grabbed it along the way. He kicked it open and sat down in front of his father, legs out and arms crossed.

Richard Sionis had stopped struggling. His eyes harshly glared at Roman. Neither parent had heard the conversation, so Victor’s best guess was that the man honestly thought he was going to be able to talk his way out of this. Yeah, fat fucking chance. Even if Roman weakened a little, Victor would immediately make the choice himself to protect Roman.

Roman’s mother only grew worse though. She started to scream against the gag only for Roman to suddenly lean forward and scream right back. The sound bounced over everything. His mother jolted back, stopping from shock alone.

“You’re fucking gagged! Stop wasting your fucking breath.” Roman turned back to his father. Victor watched the hesitance flash over him again. The uncertainty. Was he really going to go through with this? But when Roman looked away, Victor made sure he was the only thing Roman’s eyes found.

“I’m right here. Just tell me what you want,” whispered Victor.

Roman’s lips quirked back up to a small smile. He took a deep breath before turning back to his father. However, when he spoke, the words were directed to Victor. “Pick up a knife.”

“Preference?”

“Something simple for now.”

Victor did. He waited for what Roman would ask for next.

“I…want you to ungag him. When I say he’s lying, I want…” Roman licked his lips. He sounded almost in awe of himself, like he couldn’t believe he was getting the chance to say all this. He waited, like somehow all this would fall apart. Maybe he even thought he was dreaming. But when it became clear that he held the attention of the room, Roman finally finished his thought. “I want you to stab him. Not fatally though. Not…not until I say so.”

“Yes sir.”

Victor adjusted his grip on the knife to something more comfortable. He walked over and with his freehand, finally pulled the gag off of Richard Sionis.

The father spoke first. “I should have listened to the doctors and kept you committed when I had the chance. I should have realized having no legacy would have been better than you—”

“Shut up,” hissed Roman. His voice was a little softer, still uncertain about how far he could retaliate.

“I hid your mistakes to save my pride, but I should have aired everything out from the start. Then perhaps if not committed, you’d already be in jail, regardless of the impact on the family name—”

“Shut up.” It was a little louder this time. Victor could see the rage growing. Roman was slowly realizing he truly did hold all the cards. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t a trick.

The father kept going. “I realize now dropping you as a baby wasn’t a shameful moment. The only shameful act was that you didn’t die from the fall—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Roman shot to his feet. His fist connected with his father’s jaw, only for him to immediately jerk back.

Both Roman and his father seemed to be in shock. Roman couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. Richard Sionis seemed to finally be waking up and realizing this all wasn’t going to end in his favor either. Victor just continued to grin from where he stood behind the father.

Roman’s gaze slowly fell back. His own strength, the confidence Victor so often saw in him, it was now starting to peek out in front of his parents. Roman sat back down. He was slightly more controlled. He looked ready this time. Before his father said anything, Roman spoke first.

“So you finally admit to dropping me as a child. How about when you smacked me for back talking and I fell down the stairs?”

Richard scoffed. “You want me to deny it? What’s the point now?”

“True,” Roman slowly said, “but you did lie about it all before. So I think that counts as two lies. Victor?”

Victor stabbed the man. Once in his back. Once in his shoulder. The cuts were shallow, but he was following Roman’s orders. No killing. Not yet.

Richard Sionis inhaled sharply each time. He was trying to hold onto his own pride and probably didn’t want to give Roman the satisfaction of crying out. Roman’s mother clearly wasn’t trying to save anything. In fact, she started to scream through her gag again. However, with Roman’s newfound confidence, he didn’t hesitate to interrupt her.

“Did I ask for your fucking input!” yelled Roman. “No! Wait your fucking turn!”

He leaned back. His face turned back to Richard Sionis as his mother blubbered to a stop. Roman said, “You didn’t believe me when I broke my arm. You let me sit there, waiting for hours until you’d thought I’d learned your lesson.”

“So? You have your truth and I have mine. What the hell do you think you’ll gain from this?”

Roman didn’t answer. His eyes flicked upwards to Victor. “I think that counts. Victor.”

Another quick slice. The blade broke skin. Victor could feel the slight parting of muscle as the strands were evenly pulled apart. The blood spread across Richard Sionis’ nightclothes, just like the other two spots.

Roman kept going.

Some things he spoke of were minor.

“You never told me happy birthday.”

“Now you’re the one making fucking lies up! For what?”

“No, I think you’re lying. Victor.”

Some aspects directly involved Richard Sionis and his abuse.

“You made me pick up the vase I broke. With my bare hands, and then lied about how I was cut.”

“You needed discipline. Clearly more than I originally gave you.”

“Victor?”

Coverups were given a spotlight, proving Victor’s belief that Roman had never been an angel growing up.

“You paid off the school. More than once.”

“I had to just to keep you enrolled!”

“And did you ever think that I acted out as often as I did because I didn’t want to deal with those stupid clubs? Those dumb fucks who clearly weren’t going to help me get anywhere in life? No. Victor, just fucking cut him again.”

And then there were the other moments. Roman didn’t have many examples that went into this final category, but those that he told were cruel enough to even make Victor faulter. And that was even with ignoring his obvious bias towards Roman.

“I told you that cunt of a maid touched me. I was fucking eleven!”

“You were lying for the goddamn attention!”

“No I fucking wasn’t! I wanted her gone and you kept her fucking employed!”

“So? She died a week later in a car accident. You got your wish eventually.”

Roman blinked. He leaned closer. “Well of course I did. How do you think her fucking breaks suddenly failed?”

Richard’s eyes widened.

Roman gestured to Victor. “Again.”

Victor was only too happy to comply.

The pattern went on, for hours in fact. A slight grievous, to full on abuse and lies were brought up. Roman seemed intent on mentioning every single moment, of forcing Richard Sionis to face it. Some of the answers the man still lied about, at least according to Roman. But the majority Richard just agreed with Roman’s intentions or called Roman some version of insane.

Did he think saying the truth now was really going to change anything? Was he hoping that Roman might actually stick to the rules he’d made up and not cut him if he told the truth? Or was he realizing the end was here and he was just too tired of holding up the charade any longer? Victor honestly didn’t fucking care. He just relished in each cut that he was allowed to make.

By the end of it, Roman’s mother had mostly stopped her sobbing through the gag and the tears had slowed. Her face was turned away, her body exhausted and slumped against her restraints. Richard Sionis was covered in blood, cuts littering his back, his arms, his front, even his face. He was also slack against the restraints, the constant torment too much to fight at this point. Or maybe he’d finally realized that not only was this thing not going his way, but he would also never walk out of it.

And then Roman finally stopped talking.

Victor watched him closely. He was breathing heavily, at least a part of that from just how much he had yelled over the past few hours. A weight was clearly gone from his shoulders. His eyes shined with a sense of awe that all this had even occurred. That he’d had a chance to say even half the things he’d said.

Richard Sionis spoke first though, voice strained and soft. “Are you happy now? Is this what you fucking wanted?”

“Yes.”

His father and mother both looked surprised about that.

“Uh, did you expect me to fucking say no? I always wanted you gone. I just never thought I could get out. I never knew how I would even do it. But Victor? He opened my eyes. He showed me how much farther I could push, reminded me that I didn’t have to take shit from you anymore. I never should have let you control me as much as you fucking did. But my vision was warped by you. Having Victor gave me back my agency, and now every single fucking slight I experienced I passed from me to you.” Roman laughed at that. He finally smiled, a full-on grin really. “I should have done this years ago, but it turns out, I just needed the right fucking push.”

“Roman—”

“I would have thought you’d be happy,” Roman said with another laugh. “Isn’t every parent’s dream for their child to go higher than they could? Well now I’ll always be above you. By at least six feet.”

“Roman—”

“Slice his throat.”

“You little fucking prick! You’re lying to yourself if you really think this life is going to fucking get you anywhere! I wished you’d never been born! I wish—”

Richard Sionis went on and on. He was done fighting. Instead, he’d decided to try and hurt Roman one last time. But he couldn’t. Either too fucking stupid or too fucking desperate, but Richard Sionis couldn’t see. Roman had finally severed the tie. He leaned back, ready and waiting for the finale to the show.

Victor switched knives. He chose one better suited for what he was about to do. Richard Sionis was still talking when Victor grabbed his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck.

“You little, fucking cocksu-urg-a-bl—”

The words turned to garbled gibberish as Victor first made contact with the jugular. Roman’s mother was screaming against her gag again, but the sound was dimmed by the pounding of blood in Victor’s own ears. First through the jugular, then the carotid artery. He sliced deeper. Blood would be flowing down and into his windpipe, his throat. Richard Sionis tried to breath in and then out. A spray of blood left his lips as his body started to convulse.

Victor adjusted his grip a little and then continued. He went through the artery and jugular on the other side of the neck before finally pulling the blade free.

Then he held Richard Sionis’ head back and against his shoulder. Victor could feel it as the body twitched for the last time. He twisted the blade in his hand and ran his thumb over the edge of the cut. Blood continued to stream down Richard Sionis’ front as Victor stroked his handiwork again. A perfectly curved slice.

The need to mark the kill spread throughout him. But it was a low urge that could wait right this second. First came Roman. Was he pleased with the results? Victor hoped so as his eyes flickered up to meet Roman’s.

For the first time that Victor knew of, Roman hadn’t moved. He almost always kept a safe distance when Victor was working, not wanting to get his suit dirty or his hair messed up. If the main torture segment was finished and information gained, then Roman often left, leaving Victor to clean everything up. But here, Roman hadn’t moved.

Blood had spattered across his suit, his shoes. It made Victor’s eyes dilate, caused his stomach to churn in a delightful way. Roman looked beautiful in red.

And then Roman’s eyes focused back on Victor and he smiled.

“I’m never letting you go.”

“Good. I wasn’t going to leave anyways,” Victor said with a wide grin. He finally let go and the head fully slumped back, the fatal wound shining upwards and open.

The moment was broken by the wailing from Roman’s mother. However, this whole experience had clearly enlightened Roman. The main thing holding him back had been his father. His mother was now like a simple abscess that just needed to be sliced off as well. Roman stood up and it was almost like watching a new man. Others might not have noticed the difference, but considering Victor’s continued protection of Roman, he’d grown to notice the ticks and signs that others didn’t even know about.

But those signs were gone now. The weight was gone. It made Victor hot as he no longer saw even a hint of the chains Roman had once dragged around.

He was out of the cage.

As Roman moved to stand in front of his mother, Victor started to clean the knives he’d used. Roman was giving his mother a careful once over as she continued to cry violently, shaking the chair and sobbing against her gag.

Roman rolled his eyes and looked over at Victor. “Women.”

Victor laughed as he wiped the last of Richard Sionis’ blood off his tools. His eyes moved to the body, already running through his plan of disposal. He regularly glanced back to Roman though.

His mother had stopped crying, her wide, bloodshot eyes staring into her son’s as he leaned down. His hand came up and he undid her gag. She spoke first, just like her husband had, only there was no control in her voice. She was utterly frantic, stumbling over her words and more tears falling from her face as she spoke.

“I never did anything to you Roman! I never did! You know that! I never touched you. I never hurt you. I stayed out of it. I never did anything sweetheart-Roman-please you know that. You know that. I never did anything! I-I didn’t…”

She trailed off. Her chest was heaving, lip trembling. Victor leaned back. And she’d pissed herself. He snorted, but quickly focused back to Roman. Victor stopped what he was doing so he could pay attention as Roman dropped his head. He leaned back, letting out a long, tired sigh.

Victor frowned. What was Roman going to do? Even Victor was having a difficult time predicting it.

“Y-you see Roman? You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to. I-I didn’t do anything. I never did anything. P-please Roman. P-please—”

She started to cry as Roman turned his back on her. He walked to the nearest table. Victor’s head cocked to the side. Was he…

Roman took something from the table but didn’t show it. He walked back with the item behind his back. He put his free hand on his mother’s shoulder. She stilled, her eyes wide and hopeful as she looked up. Roman shot her an angelic smile.

“I’ve thought about it, and you’re right. You never did anything,” he said. Then the smile dropped. “Not a single, fucking thing for me.”

The motion was fast. A squelching noise and a gasp sounded out as Roman drove the blade into her midsection. Roman’s whole body was shaking but not really from any one emotion. He was simply overwhelmed. His teeth ground together as he tried to pull the knife out. Victor quickly set everything down to come help.

Roman usually didn’t get his hands dirty. If he did, it was with a gun. This was the closest Victor had ever seen him get. Because of that, he pressed himself to Roman’s back. His hand trailed down Roman’s arm before wrapping his hand over Roman’s. Victor propped his chin up on Roman’s shoulder, pressed his cheek to the side of Roman’s head

“With a knife like this,” whispered Victor, “a stab wound will suction around the blade. It makes it more difficult to pull it straight back out. Here.”

Thankfully, Roman’s mother was quiet and didn’t ruin the moment. She was going into shock after all as Victor gently guided Roman’s hand. His other hand wrapped around Roman’s waste, pulling their hips together.

“And as you break the skin, just so,” Victor whispered, “now it’s simpler to pull the knife out.”

As they did so, Victor didn’t let go. If anything, he pushed up against Roman’s back just as the knife finally left the body.

“You know,” Roman said with a breathless laugh. “You’re at risk of making this a little too Freudian.”

“What the fuck is a freud?”

Roman laughed hard. He broke Victor’s grip just enough to turn around in his arms, the bloody knife still in his hand. The kiss was deep, all heat and a growing desperation.

When Victor had a chance to breath, he said, “I take it I said something funny?”

“Something like that,” Roman said with another light laugh. Then he adjusted his hands. Victor could feel the blade of the knife resting against his back as Roman’s free hand cupped his cheek. His thumb traced one of the scars on Victor’s face and then with a voice like he was just now realizing it, Roman whispered, “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Now that gave Victor something to laugh at. He shook his head. “I’m not.”

“You are though.”

“Aren’t you the one who once said I needed a flashier shirt to distract from my ugly mug because I was at risk of scaring too many people away from the business?”

“Yes, and I still fucking stand by that remark.”

Victor rolled his eyes.

“But this,” continued Roman. He was so close that their noses were almost touching. “In your element and knowing all you’ve done for me, the fact that you knew what to do for me despite how I never fucking asking you for it, is beautiful.”

“You don’t look so bad in red yourself.”

“Don’t get fucking used to it. This is a special occasion.”

“Oh, I know. I’ll never let the image fade from my mind,” grinned Victor before pulling Roman in close again.

It was perfect. The feeling of the blood drying against Victor’s skin, the cool of the knife and the danger of its sharp edge occasionally touching Victor’s skin. Victor opened his mouth wider, allowing Roman to explore to his heart’s content.

Would a low occur after this? It was certainly possible, but Victor had found the heart of the issue. He’d cut it out and rid Roman of the immediate stress. He’d truly proven himself to Roman. He’d surprised him, shocked him, delighted him, all in one go. And with Roman’s body flush against him, he could feel how much more Roman was wanting to show how appreciative he was.

“I’ll get rid of the cunt. Nice and quick—”

“To long,” hissed Roman, kissing and biting at Victor’s lip.

The very thought almost had Victor going over the edge. Now this, this he would never forget. He didn’t even mention how out of Roman’s normal it was for risk of stopping him.

“Just one moment though,” whispered Roman.

Victor couldn’t help the whine as Roman removed himself. However, it was only for a quick second.

Roman leaned back down and said, “Mind holding this for a second mother dear? Thanks.” He stabbed her again, but this time left the knife in. He kicked at her chair, forcing her to turn away from them and towards the corpse of Richard Sionis. Then Roman captured Victor’s lips again, pushing him back until Victor hit a table with a harsh thud.

Victor let out a low moan. Roman took advantage of it, lips moving to Victor’s chin and neck. Now it was Victor’s turn to question his reality, to wonder if this was all a dream. The best explanation Victor could think of was that Roman’s usual distaste for the gross and unclean-like having sex in a fucking warehouse after just fucking murdering someone-was being overshadowed for once by his impatient nature to get whatever he deserved or wanted right that fucking second.

And clearly, what he wanted was Victor.

Roman led. Victor fought him on each push, each movement, but only so that he could coax Roman into pushing back twice as hard. Victor tried to steal another kiss. Instead, Roman pushed him back. With Victor’s balance off, Roman easily gripped his hips and flipped him over. Victor’s hands connected with the table, just barely keeping himself from having his face smashed against it. Victor’s lips were slack, his entire body vibrating with every lengthy groan that left his lips.

He didn’t think he could grow harder. Then Roman reached around Victor, their bodies as close as could be, and picked up the nearest knife.

“I want to do it.”

Victor’s head rolled back, twisting as much as he could to see Roman’s face. “You would?” he asked, voice practically begging. He could remember when he’d first made a tally in front of Roman. Though having never done something so purposefully exhibitionistic before, now he thought it was the most intimate thing in the world. He couldn’t think of anything that would bring him closer with another person, at least not until Roman had said what he just had. Victor had never let anyone else do something like this, but now that the thought was in his head, he knew he couldn’t let it go.

“I think so,” Roman whispered with a teasing grin. Victor moaned at the thought, using one hand to rub himself as he pushed back into Roman. He felt himself become even more enveloped in Roman’s arms, the knife moving over his chin and face. “Here? Or here?”

“Roman, please…”

“Not bad, but I don’t think you’re trying hard enough. I want you to really tell me how much you fucking want it.”

The words fell out of Victor’s mouth, a jumbled mess of anything he could think of to convince Roman. It was possibly the neediest Victor had ever been, but he wasn’t embarrassed by it. With Roman, it felt right and made Victor just grow hotter and hotter as he begged Roman to cut him.

Wrapped up in the heat of it all, Victor even said, “Please. Only you. I’ll let only you cut me from here on out. Only you can give that command if you want it. Just please. _Please_.”

“Ah, what a beautiful thought,” whispered Roman in Victor’s ear. It made him shiver. “But even I wouldn’t be so cruel to try and interfere with your ritual. Wouldn’t want you getting distracted, getting self-destructive because I wasn’t around to give you permission for a tally.”

Later, when Victor’s head was a little clearer, even he would admit that the request was risky and a bit foolish. In the moment though, Victor simply begged again. He needed a release. And then Roman said the words. The exact words that Victor valued more than any other overused or commercialized version of love and devotion.

“I need you too much to risk that. Can’t have your head clouded waiting for a tally. But I’ll forever cherish that I’m the only fucking person you would give that offer to.”

Roman switched the knife to his other hand so that he could undo his belt. Victor followed suit, just enough before his movements were restricted again, and he was really bent over. He couldn’t move from off the table even if he’d tried. He could feel Roman pressing up against him, listened as the knife switched hands again before the tip was pressed against the side of Victor’s lip.

He didn’t bother to ask if this was going to be the spot. He could tell Roman had already chosen from the way he caressed him before pulling his body up so that his back was against Roman’s chest again.

The knife glinted in the morning light as Roman readjusted, pressing the tip in a little harder.

Victor couldn’t think of a more fitting place. It was a spot that Victor would be able to see in the mirror every day. It was one that he would feel every time that he moved his mouth, could just poke out his tongue and trace it if he wanted to. It was a place that Roman would be able to visibly see like a sign of branding that only the two of them fully understood. The tally would be in a place where Roman would be able to fucking feel every time he captured Victor’s lips too.

Roman kissed his cheek. “This is going to hurt.”

“I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.”

With that, the point of the knife tore into Victor’s lip right as Roman thrusted into him. Victor inhaled sharply. He could taste his own blood on his lips, feel the warm flow of it falling down his face and dripping off his chin. Roman dragged the knife down low. Each sudden jerk went in time with Roman’s hips as every noise imaginable left Victor’s lips. When Roman decided the wound was long and deep enough, he let the knife go. It clattered to the table and Roman used his newly freed hand to press against Victor’s back and really bend him over.

It was rough and bloody, and Victor loved every goddamn second right up until his breath left him and he slumped forward, feeling Roman shuddering in him and against him.

He could feel bruises already forming across his skin from the places where Roman had gripped, on his arms, his neck. His muscles were sore in a wonderful way too from the awkward position of being pinned against the table for so long. He could still taste the blood in his mouth as well as the tally continued to break against the attempts of scabbing over.

Victor reached up and carefully traced where it went from his lower lip almost down to his chin. God, he couldn’t wait to fucking see it.

It took a moment for Victor to get his breathing under better control. Only once he managed that did he straighten and start to fix himself up. Once mostly put together, he touched the open wound on his face again. It made his heart flutter.

When he turned around, Roman had also readjusted himself. However, Victor couldn’t help but laugh. Roman was the most disheveled Victor had ever seen him. His hair a mess, suit covered in blood and sweat and the smell of sex still heavy in the air. Roman’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and bared his teeth.

“Remember it well because I am never letting myself fall to this state again.”

“Ah, come on,” grinned Victor. “I can tell. You fucking loved this.”

“I far prefer watching you work.” Roman leaned in and Victor loved the feeling of him against the tally on his face. Roman drew out the kiss. Blood mixed in their mouths and spread across their faces where the tally broke open again. When they pulled away, Roman added, “I will be taking a very, very long shower after this and I expect you to clean all this shit up.”

“So, you want me to finish her?”

“Hmm, I’ll finish her. You just clean the shit up.”

“Yes sir,” grinned Victor.

He stepped back and watched as Roman pulled his mother around. Roman cocked his head to the side. “Still alive bitch?”

When she didn’t react, Roman slapped her hard. She jolted upright, her voice immediately crying out. The sound was incredibly muted compared to before though. She was alive but incredibly weak. Roman smiled. “Good. I was hoping you hadn’t died from blood loss. I would have hated if I’d missed out on giving you a proper goodbye.”

And with that, Roman grabbed the knife he’d left in her midsection. His other hand kept her steady by holding onto the chair while his arm went back and forth. Seeing it in action, Victor could only describe it as beautiful as Roman’s mother screamed for the last time. Her body went slack against the restraints as blood pooled beneath her. Roman let out a loud satisfied shout. He stepped back, fresh blood spattered against his front and especially slick over his hand as he dropped the knife.

Victor let out a satisfied sigh.

“They’re all yours Mr. Zsasz. I should hurry on back. After all, something tells me I’ll be receiving a phone call soon informing me something horrible has happened at my beloved family home.”

Victor chuckled. He watched Roman walk away until he was completely out of sight. The fun wasn’t over, but it was a different kind of fun as Victor picked up some new tools to start the dismembering process.

He didn’t get to see Roman until later that night. There was a fair amount of work to do, especially since Victor wanted to make sure he was involved in every single process of it. Once done, he went to go get himself cleaned up and then paid off some dirty cops to see what preliminary work the police had done at the initial crime scene. As predicted, they didn’t have much. Still, there was time to see what their forensics would be able to discover out of the mess. Victor would keep his eyes and ears open just to make sure, but it looked like everything had gone as planned.

As half his attention followed the investigation, the other half followed Roman.

The night after everything, Roman was in high spirits just as Victor had predicted. He’d of course cleaned himself up. His focus was completely on commanding the room, commanding their men like the fucking king he was. As the days started to come and go, the rare mention of Roman’s past came up. The mentions still irritated him, but Roman also managed to laugh it off for the first time to. He even laughed as someone gave their condolences with an uncertain look.

During the police investigation, they asked for an informal interview with Roman. They didn’t have anything and weren’t able to get very far. The entire time Victor had to hold his own laughter back as he watched from afar. He could tell the glee Roman felt wanted to spill out as he tried to remain professional.

Thankfully, a second interview wasn’t needed, especially as the investigation was still stuck. Roman might not have been able to hide his joy a second time. Either way, it didn’t look like they’d focus on Roman again. Instead, it looked like the police might try to pin it on some gang, a hit caused by a grievous business partner, something like that. After all, they had twenty-six bodies and a missing person-they’d incorrectly identified one of the broken sets of bones to be Richard Sionis’-and having all that and no suspect was really tarnishing their fucking reputation. Victor would just have to make sure it wasn’t pinned on him or Roman, but for the moment, it looked like the police would go for an easier target that they could close the book on and quickly move past.

And with that, time continued on.

Roman got the rights to Janus Corp and immediately burned everything that he could. He hadn’t had complete rights so after he’d done some considerable damage he’d been booted by the board.

Roman had still managed to make the short ownership process a fun, stress relieving experience though. It allowed him one last time to spit in the dead faces of his parents, he got a real kick out of the fact that the damage he’d caused led to mass layoffs and, from the looks of it, that the Wayne Corporation would have to buy up the place to save it.

If Roman had still had his eyes on running the family business like he’d had from an earlier age, that offer might have enraged him. Now, he was happy to see his parents’ work swallowed, chewed up, and spit back out.

With that in ashes as well, and what little Roman had gotten from the will being thrown to the wind, everything was getting back to normal. It was perfect. Roman was perfect, and Victor couldn’t be happier.

Leading up to the murders, during, and even after, Victor never doubted that he’d made the wrong decision. Seeing Roman as he was now, as he was meant to be without that cage around him even if others couldn’t necessarily see the difference, it was beautiful.

Some may have thought that once a low hit, the doubt would have begun to seep into Victor. If possible, he’d wanted the lows to never fucking occur again, right? However, even in seeing a low come, it only helped to prove Victor’s beliefs that he’d done right.

After nearly a month long high, Victor got called in about midday. It had been incredibly busy the night before, so the timing actually seemed oddly early considering Roman liked his beauty sleep.

When Victor got to the club, he noted all other oddities. Most of the people that might have been upstairs in a meeting were either on the ground floor or out on other jobs that Victor knew of. It meant it would likely just be him and Roman. As to why, there were a couple of possibilities, some less likely considering the relatively early hour.

But when he got upstairs, Roman wasn’t waiting for him.

He wasn’t having a late breakfast at his table. Wasn’t walking back and forth on call with his connections. Wasn’t standing in front of his rows of clothes trying to pick out which one to wear.

Instead, Victor found him just lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling.

Victor let out a soft sigh. His eyes quickly assessed the situation as he planned for the best approach. First to figure out what kind of low it was—

“I thought…” Roman trailed off. He blinked, a small frown on his lips.

Then this wasn’t a destructive low. He wasn’t frozen in spot with no emotion on his face either. It was a better low. Relatively speaking, it was less an entire change of personality and instead Roman was just softer, a little slower.

Victor sat on the edge of the bed. “What did you think?” asked Victor.

Roman turned to look at him. His eyes slowly roamed over his body. Then he pushed himself up and cupped Victor’s cheek, the side with the tally starting on his lip. It had healed by now. Still a little pinker than the rest, but soon it would look just like any other tally. Roman’s thumb traced it. The moment was oddly gentle as Victor stayed perfectly still under Roman’s gaze.

“I had a dream and I thought…” Roman whispered. “I thought…that they were still alive.”

Ah, so that was why Roman wanted to see him. He wanted proof.

“I actually called my father’s phone number. I should have known the truth when it said the number had been disconnected. But I just…I needed to see it.” Roman’s lips gently pressed against the edge of Victor’s. He trailed down, only moving back once he’d kissed the entirety of the scar. He smiled and traced it again with his thumb. “I never want to forget the moment that you cut open that fucking fuck’s throat.”

“You won’t. I won’t,” Victor agreed. It was a low, but Roman was more receptive than he’d ever been. It made Victor smile. He’d been right. Even if not completely gone, he’d clearly helped lessen their intensity. Victor suspected they would also be even rarer going forward with no direct stimulus to set him off. And, though Victor could have taken the initiative, for the first time during a low he just asked. “What do you need right now?”

Roman finally let go of Victor to cover his own face. “I can’t see anyone. Not right this second. Not until that fucking dream is out of my head.”

“I’ll reschedule your meetings.” Victor kissed Roman’s forehead. He stood up and quickly went about doing just that. Once he was done, Victor walked back. Roman had readjusted, now sitting up and propped up against the pillows. He noted the phone in Roman’s hands. Victor couldn’t help the surprised sound as he asked, “Working?”

Roman scoffed. He was still muted in a way, but yes, this was definitely the best low Victor had ever seen. “I may not be up to talking in person, but I still need to make sure this empire runs smoothly.”

Victor nodded in agreement. “I’ll get breakfast for you.”

Roman made a noise of acknowledgement, for the moment, his eyes focused on whatever he was reading. Victor moved quickly. Considering Roman was talking and responding, he had everything set up on the table. No way would Roman want to risk getting crumbs in his sheets anyways.

After doing a little work, Roman did move to the table. He ate, even managed to talk business with Victor. He didn’t speak as quickly or get as riled up, but it made Victor smile all the same. Once finished, Roman retired back to his bed. He looked at his phone for a few seconds before tossing it to the side. He gestured for Victor to join him.

Victor practically jumped at the command, kicking off his shoes and getting in.

Roman’s lips quirked up. “Such a loyal fucking dog.”

Victor hummed at that.

“Just give me a few hours,” murmured Roman as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I should be ready to meet with the buyers tonight after this.”

“I’ll take care of it if not boss.”

“Knew you would.”

Victor dragged Roman close, pressing his face to his shoulders. This was perfect. It was all he could have asked for as he lay there and watched Roman sleep. And when Roman finally woke up hours later with the sun starting to go down? The energy was back. Roman was ready to go, could possibly tell Victor to crack a few heads in if necessary, and it was beautiful.

There wasn’t a better life that Victor could have asked for.


End file.
